


Of Duty and Destiny

by PyratQueen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/M, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spoilers, head canon, plot heavy, sticking to the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyratQueen/pseuds/PyratQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by my Dragon Age Inquisitions story... I wanted to fill in some of the stuff that happens off screen, elaborate on existing scenes and write what I've come up with in my own head canon... plus I really wanted to expand the romance with Cullen.<br/>*special thanks to Rachel (ElegantN7) for her help with ideas and stuff... **forgive the title change... I was indecisive before...<br/>---------------------------------------<br/>Beatrice Trevelyan... a Circle Mage from Ostwick has been dropped into the middle of a war between Mages and Templars. The only one to survive the explosion at the Conclave, she has been Marked by a magic that she doesn't understand. Now she is all that stands between the world and an unending tide of demons. Thrown into a rebellion that she didn't ask to be a part of, she must prove herself. Is she a gift from the Maker or an accident of circumstance. And to complicate matters further, she cannot ignore the growing attraction to the Commander of the Inquisitions forces. But amid the fighting and the politics, can she really hope to find love in the arms of an ex-Templar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Starting

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was just me trying to get into the meat of the story (actually the first couple of chapters will be like this... I just want to get to Haven so I can start MY story) So this is mostly canon... enjoy...

Beatrice lifted her head and blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision. Her head was pounding, everything was fuzzy. Where was she anyway, the ground was rocky and uneven and there was a hazy mist shrouding everything. What was that sound. Like twitching insects, scuttling about in the blackness. Whatever it was, it was getting louder, _closer_. She had to move, but where.

A bright figure beckoned to her at the top of a steep slope. Suddenly massive spiders came rushing out of the shadows. She had no choice but to run. Franticly, she climbed upwards, the terrifying creatures nipping at her heels. A hand reached out to her, then the world seemed to shift. She was thrown off balance and then she was laying face down somewhere.

Everything smelled like ash and burning. She had some idea of approaching soldiers, then, _nothing_.

She was cold, it was dank and dark here. Soldiers stood on all sides of her, their swords drawn. They were aimed directly at her.

She heard the familiar crackle of power that could only mean one thing, _magic_. She tried to move, but looking down, she was restrained, shackled to the floor. Suddenly her hand sizzled and surged to life with a strange green electricity. _What was this_...

Before she had time to think, the door to her cell opened and two women were before her. They circled her like sharks that smelled blood in the water. What was going on. She thought back, the conclave, an explosion, oh _Maker_!

The tall dark haired woman spoke first, "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you _now_?" She hissed angrily. Her words weren't making any sense.

 _The conclave destroyed, everyone dead... except... for me_!

"What do you mean.... everyone is dead..." The dark haired women grabbed Beatrice's hand roughly "EXPLAIN THIS!" She shouted. Her hand crackled and popped with an unknown magic. "I... I... can't. I don't know what that is... or how it got there." The tall woman screamed in her face "YOU'RE LYING." She shoved Beatrice hard, almost knocking her back. The other woman rushed forward, pulling the tall one away. "We need her Cassandra."

Turning to Beatrice, the other woman spoke "Do you remember what happened, how this began." Beatrice tried to think back, "I remember running, _things_... were chasing me... there was... a women." " _A woman_!" The one in the hood seemed surprised. Beatrice continued, "She..... reached out to me... but then...." The one called Cassandra sighed, "Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take her to the rift." Beatrice was confused, "What _happened_." Cassandra began unshackling her, "It will be easier... to show you."

Outside, it was snowing. The fresh air felt wonderful on her face, but something was very wrong. Slowly her eyes drifted up to the sky, a bright green vortex of swirling energy was all she could see. Cassandra spoke again "We call it _the Breach_ , it's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were created by the explosion at the Conclave. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

Suddenly a massive surge of magic discharged from the Breach, Beatrice's hand shot out, pain wracking her body. The mark on her hand exploded with the same magic that she had seen in the sky. She fell to her knees in agony. Cassandra was in her face again "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads... and it is _killing_ you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time." Beatrice sat in the snow cradling her hand. She was breathing deeply, the pain was so intense. Looking up at Cassandra, she was determined "I understand, I'll do what I can, whatever it takes." The tall woman seemed to approve. Beatrice stood up on shaky legs. Cassandra began leading her out of the village.

Everyone they passed was jeering and pointing at her, Beatrice didn't see one friendly face. "They have decided your guilt, they need it." Cassandra explained, "The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead." Beatrice remained silent. She remembered being part of a delegation of Mage's from her Circle in Ostwick, her father, Bann Trevelyan had insisted she attend the Conclave. Her family had close ties to both the Chantry and Templar order, and being a Mage herself, it was expected that she go and represent her family.

Cassandra was still talking, something about working together until the Breach is sealed. They went through a gate house, and stopped. Cassandra took a knife and cut the ropes that were binding Beatrice's wrists. "There will be a trial, I can promise no more." "Where are you taking me?" Beatrice asked as she rubbed her arms. "Your mark must be tested, on something far smaller than the Breach." Cassandra replied.

They started up a mountain path, it was littered with burning debris and bodies. Beatrice was horrified. Suddenly another discharge from the sky had her grasping her hand in anguish. The pain brought her to her knees as green flame rained down around her. Cassandra came to her aid, lifting her up as she lay in the snow. They continued to another bridge, suddenly a ball of magic fire came crashing down in their path. The stone bridge crumbled and both Beatrice and Cassandra went tumbling to the frozen river below. Landing hard on the ice, they watched as another ball of flame hurtled towards them from the Breach. Out of the smoking impact crater, shades rose up. Cassandra shouted "STAY BEHIND ME!"

As she charged forward, sword and shield at the ready. Beatrice backed up, panic rising in her throat. She frantically searched the rubble for something, _anything_ , she could use as a weapon. Her eyes finally saw a staff, half buried in rubble. Gripping it tightly in her hands, she turned to face the demons. Sending a barrage of spirit magic at the enemy closest to her, she saw it fall with a shriek. Cassandra was pulling her sword out of another demon, when she charged at Beatrice, weapon drawn. "Drop your weapon NOW!" She said forcefully. Beatrice was angry, "I don't need a _staff_ to be _dangerous_." "You are right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless." Cassandra sighed as she sheathed her sword. "I suppose I _must_ trust you if we are to work together. I should remember you agreed to come _willingly_."

The two women continued on in silence. The sky churned and roiled above them. Suddenly another ball of magic fire came hurtling down from above, demons were everywhere. Cassandra charged forward, knocking a shade back with her shield, while Beatrice hurled fireballs and lightning bolts from a distance. Soon they stood triumphant over the smoking remains of their attackers. Coming around a bend in the river, a throng of green wraiths hovered in the mist. Cassandra knit her brows together in anger, "The entire valley is swarming with demons, we must do something!" Beatrice nodded and went forward, hitting all of the wraiths at once with a chain lightening spell, as Cassandra threw herself into the melee and slashed at anything that moved.

From the ruins of a building up on the ridge, they could hear more fighting. Rushing up the snow covered steps, they approached a large cluster of soldiers engaged in furious combat with demons pouring out of a smaller rift. Without missing a beat, both of them jumped to action, trying to quell the tide of demons. Beatrice was focused on the battle in front of her, and was momentarily distracted, not seeing the shade sneaking up on her right. Just as she turned, a crossbow bolt sent it screaming to the ground. "Quickly! Before more come through!" an elf shouted at her, grabbing her hand and forcing it towards the rift. Beatrice winced as the magic crackled and popped, but then, the rift was closed.

"What did you do..." Beatrice said, pulling away from him. " _I_ did not do anything. Whatever magic opened the Breach, also put that mark upon your hand." The elf continued. "I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake, and it seems I was correct." Cassandra excitedly added "Meaning it _COULD_ also close the Breach itself!" The elf turned to Beatrice and smiled, "it seems you hold the key to our salvation."

The beardless dwarf who had saved her earlier smirked "Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." He strolled over to her and gave her a wry smile "Verric Tethras: Rogue, Storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong." He said with a wink at Cassandra, who narrowed her eyes in disgust."

They were arguing now over who would be going to fight in the valley, Varric saying that Cassandra's soldiers are no longer in control and that she needs him, Cassandra throwing her arms up and vehemently denying that she needed help from the likes of him. The elf approached Beatrice and politely offered "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live." "He means _I kept that mark from killing you while you slept_ "Varric added. "Thank you..." Beatrice said. "Thank me if we can close the Breach without it killing you." Solas replied dryly. "Cassandra, you should know that this magic is unlike anything I've ever seen before..." Cassandra nodded "understood. We should get to the forward camp as quickly as possible."

And with that, they were heading deeper into the valley, green fire raining down all around them.


	2. As Heaven is Wide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice must find the courage to close the rift at the center of where the Temple of Sacred Ashes was...

"Open the gate." Cassandra shouted, as the final demon fell and Beatrice sealed the rift.

"Whatever that thing on your hand is... it's useful" quipped Varric. Beatrice gave him a smirk as Cassandra rolled her eyes. On the bridge, soldiers were lining up weapons and armor, they jumped to attention as Cassandra went past. The redheaded woman from earlier was arguing with a man in Chantry clerics robes. The man looked up and sneered "here they come."

 _Oh good_ , though Beatrice, _another friendly face_ .

"You made it..." Leliana said with relief  "Chancellor Roderick... this is" "I _KNOW_ who _SHE_ is." He interrupted rudely "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!" Cassandra bristled at this "Order ME! You are a glorified CLERK, a _bureaucrat_ !"

They argued amongst themselves, slinging insults and barbs. Finally Leliana shook her head "we SERVE the most HOLY Chancellor, as you well know." Throwing up his hands, Roderick shouted "JUSTINIA is DEAD, we must elect her replacement and obey HER orders." Beatrice finally found the courage to speak up "but what about the BREACH." Cassandra seemed to find her focus again, "Chancellor, she is right, we must deal with THIS matter before anything else can be done." Roderick hung his head and with dismay, said "Call a retreat Seeker, our position here is hopeless." "NO! We can stop this before it's too late." Cassandra insisted. "We must get to the temple!"

As they argued over which path to take, the Breach suddenly exploded with a powerful surge of magic. Beatrice's hand sizzled and popped, she grasped her wrist in pain. Cassandra was by her side in an instant, "how do YOU think we should proceed?" "Wait, you're asking ME now?" Beatrice said, shocked. Looking down at the glowing mark on her hand, she set her jaw and looked Roderick in the eye. "I say we charge, I won't survive long enough for your trial, whatever happens, happens _NOW_!"

Cassandra, Beatrice, Verric and Solas trudged up the mountain path. They could hear fighting ahead, the Breach was almost directly over their heads. The swirling cauldron of magic and fire reflecting in their armor and on their resolved faces. As they neared the destroyed temple, they saw men running ahead, they could hear shouts and the clash of weapons.

Approaching the gate, a ball of flame crashed into a group of soldiers, sending their burning bodies flying. Without thought to their own safety, they charged into the fray. Shades and wraiths were flooding out of the rift now, overwhelming the soldiers. Beatrice threw down a protective barrier on as many of the men as she could manage before letting loose a barrage of fire balls and lightning bolts.

The battle raged on, demons and soldiers colliding in furious conflict. Through the smoke, she saw an imposing figure raise his sword. She heard him roar over the commotion around them, "MEN! Hold your ground" as he cut down a demon that was about to attack a group of soldiers. His great lion helm gleamed with the light from the Breach, coupled with his furred pauldrons, he created an arresting silhouette.

She had only a moment to look before she was casting winters grasp on a wraith that was about to overcome Varric. The dwarf nodded in thanks before sending out another volley of cross bow bolts. Running forward as fast as she could, Beatrice lifted her hand, feeling the increasingly familiar surge of magic course through her body, she closed the rift.

"Sealed as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this." Solas said. "Let's hope it works on the BIG one." Varric added dryly.

In the aftermath, smoke drifted across the battlefield. Wounded soldiers were being healed and picked up. The smoldering remains of demons sent an acridic smell that stung her eyes and burned her nose. The man in the lion helm sauntered over, "Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? _Well done_." He said as he pulled his helm off and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

Beatrice had a chance to steal a glance as he was surveying the battleground. He was tall, taller than herself or the Seeker. Blond hair, curly and short. He was clean shaven, but with the shadow of whiskers growing in. He had a long nose and full lips. There was a thin ragged scar on his upper lip, creeping onto his cheek, but it didn't detract from his handsome face. Beatrice thought it rather suited him. A warrior has scars after all, and this man was _warrior_ through and through.

As he moved closer to them, she noticed his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Something about the way he carried himself.... her blood turned to ice.

A whisper in her mind..... _Templar_.

She dropped her eyes suddenly. While she wasn't afraid of Templars the way some mages were, to have one so _close_ again, she wasn't sure what to expect. But Solas seemed at ease. Perhaps this man wasn't a threat... Looking up once more, she saw a serious expression on an otherwise beautiful face, and relaxed a little.

Cassandra replied "Do not congratulate me Commander, this is the prisoner's doing." The man shifted his attention to Beatrice, his stare was cold and intense. " _Is it_? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here." With a hard swallow, Beatrice responded "You're not the only one..." The man that Cassandra called Commander looked unimpressed "We'll see soon enough won't we." and turning back to the Seeker, he continued. "The way to the temple should be clear, Leliana will try and meet you there." With a sigh, Cassandra declared "Then we'd best move quickly. Give us time, Commander."

Nodding, the man turned from them "Maker watch over you.... for all our sakes." Beatrice watched him as he rushed to assist a wounded man, slinging one strong arm around the injured fighter, he half carried the soldier away from further harm. She turned back towards the Breach, to the ruined temple and the daunting task at hand.

Dropping down into the rubble and debris, a shiver ran up her spine. Bodies, twisted in agony, burned everywhere.

The Breach was right above them, it hissed and crackled with an unfamiliar magic. The smell of charred flesh and scorched stone assaulted her senses. "The Breach is a looooong way up" whistled Varric.

Beatrice just stared wide eyed, _how was she going to do this_!

Leliana and a compliment of soliders rushed through a partially collapsed side passage, "You're here! Thank the Maker!"

Cassandra wasted no time as she directed Leliana to position her men around the temple. Nodding, the red head turned back give orders. Beatrice was still staring at the massive rift in front of them. Cassandra came around to face her "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?" Beatrice scoffed "I'm not sure how to even start getting up to that thing." Solas was watching her, "No, this rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach." Cassandra gave Beatrice an encouraging nod, "Then let's find a way down. And BE careful."

Beatrice was surprised when Cassandra motioned for her to lead them. She had been thinking that the Seeker was in charge, but perhaps this was better. Tris did have the power to close the rifts, hopefully this would work. She led them around the smoking crater where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had stood. The rocks were strange here, glowing with an odd green magic, not unlike the magic of the Breach, or her mark. The air smelled funny as well, there was still the burning remains and scorched earth smell, but a metallic odor hung in the air too, like the way it smells just before a storm.

There were bright red crystals everywhere. "Red Lyrium, Seeker" Varric swore, under his breath. "I see it...." Cassandra replied. Before Beatrice had a chance to ask what _red lyrium_ was, a strange male voice echoed through the crater " _Keep the sacrifice still._ "

The party stopped dead in their tracks.

" _SOMEONE! HELP ME!_ " resonated, clear as a bell.

"That was Divine Justinia!" Cassandra said in disbelief. Beatrice's heart was pounding.

" _SOMEONE! HELP ME!_ " cried out once again from beyond the vale. As Beatrice approached the giant rift, her hand started to spark with power. " _SOMEONE! HELP ME!_ " Then another voice, as if from out of a dream " _What's going on here?_ "

Cassandra could not hide the look of shock on her face, she turned to Beatrice, "That was _YOUR_ voice! Most Holy called out to _YOU_! But..." Before she could finish her thought, the mark on Beatrice's hand started to vibrate with magic and the rift exploded with a massive surge of power. Backing up, a hazy vision appeared before them,

> _Divine Justinia held aloft by magic, arms out stretched, a grimace of pain on her face._
> 
> _A menacing figure looming over her._
> 
> _Suddenly YOU are running towards the Divine, "What's going on here?"_
> 
> _Justinia turns to you and calls out, "RUN WHILE YOU CAN! WARN THEM!"_
> 
> _The shadowy figure's voice booms "We have an intruder! Slay the Mage!"_

Then in another explosion of magic, the vision was gone. Cassandra is frantic " _YOU_ were _THERE_! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she? Was this vision _TRUE_? What are we seeing?!"

Shaking her head, Beatrice replied "I don't _REMEMBER_!" Solas placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place." He turned back to Cassandra and continued, "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed... albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

Cassandra looked worried, "That means DEMONS! _STAND READY!_ " she shouted to the soldiers standing around the temple. In unison, the men and women around her drew weapons and moved into a defensive position. Varric tapped Beatrice on the arm, gave an encouraging nod, then backed away to ready his crossbow.

All around her, she saw archers nocking their arrows, warriors readying swords and shields. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen _now_. Cassandra turned to her and nodded, drawing her own weapon. With a deep breath, Beatrice stepped forward.

Lifting her glowing hand, a magical connection to the rift made her entire body hum with power. A bright light blinded her momentarily as the rift opened, and an enormous Pride Demon materialized in the center of the crater. It stamped its feet and roared, making the ground tremble. The soldiers started to back away but Cassandra shouted "NOW!" as she lifted her sword in a gesture of command.

A hail storm of arrows flew over head, striking the beast in its back and shoulders. It snarled angrily and planted its feet into the dust. Brandishing electricity magic in the form of two whips, the monster readied itself for another attack. All of a sudden, the demon's terrifying laughter filled the air. Was he _taunting_ us? Beatrice set her jaw and cast a barrier on herself and those around her. She sent out an immolation spell that left the beast howling in rage, quickly fade stepping away as it retaliated with a blast of electricity. She came to a halt on the other side of the crater.

The demon had turned its attention to a small cluster of soldiers. Beatrice hit the brute with winters grasp and a volley of spirit magic, but it didn't even slow it down. With a swipe of its arm, it had knocked the men down. They were struggling to get up when Cassandra charged the beast, forcing it back and away from the injured soldiers. Beatrice heard her snarl as she plunge her sword into its leg, its scream was ear splitting. The demon shuddered and bellowed, running at Cassandra. The Seeker rolled and dodged the attack, but now the monster was heading straight towards Solas and Varric. Beatrice fade stepped into its path, hitting it with a torrent of fire balls.

A thought occurred to her, she lifted her hand and disrupted the rift. The beast stopped in its tracks, falling to its knees.

"NOW! WHILE IT IS WEAKENED!" Shouted Cassandra. Arrows and swords were flying, the monster was in some kind of trance. Cassandra was about to use shield bash when it suddenly stood up and hit them with both of its electric whips. The soldiers and the Seeker went down in a tumble of limbs and weapons. Beatrice knew she had to get its attention, or it would continue to attack the fallen men.

Fade stepping through the brute seemed like a good idea at the time. She came to a stop mere feet from it, and it did the trick. The demon was turning towards her, giving Cassandra and the other soldiers time to retreat to safety. Beatrice just stood there, her mana was severely depleted, and she had no lyrium potions. The Pride Demon seemed to know this, laughing at her again. Angrily, she sent elemental attacks from her staff at the fiend, _just a few more seconds_ , she thought. When it was right in front of her, it lifted its whips, ready to strike, and she shouted "NOW!" and fade stepped away, the row of archers behind her on the ridge let loose a cascade of arrows into the creatures face and body. It screamed in anger and pain, trying to brush the arrows away.

The rift exploded in a shower of green sparks, and suddenly a swarm of shades was descending on them. The soldiers rallied at Cassandra's call to arms, Beatrice had to get this rift closed. Dodging attacks from incoming demons, she fade stepped once more, only this time, she was right under the giant rift. She used the mark to disrupt the rift again, trying to give the soldiers time to attack.

The Pride Demon took a knee and Cassandra didn't waste a second, she was hacking and slashing with a vengeance. This time when it came back up, the Seeker rolled safely out of the way of its attack.

Only Beatrice wasn't as lucky, the electricity whip lashed her and sent her flying. She fell hard and tasted blood. But she knew she had to get up, there were three shades baring down on her.

A blue light flashed around her and she heard a loud crack. She had a barrier... _Solas_... She looked around for the mage but couldn't see him a midst the chaos.

She had been knocked back away from the rift. Chilling the shades, she managed to get close enough to disrupt the rift one last time.

The pride demon shook with the effort to resist, but it couldn't hold back for very long, finally dropping to its knees again. The soldiers, clustered around the beast, unloaded everything they had. It's wails of pain echoed on the walls of the ruined temple as it was finally vanquished, its lifeless body falling to the ground with a crash.

Cassandra shouted to Beatrice across the battlefield, "NOW! SEAL THE RIFT! DO IT! NOW!!!"

Gritting her teeth, Beatrice lifted her hand to the sky one more time, her body was shaking from the currents of magic that were running through her. A thread of magic tied her to the rift as she willed it closed with every fiber in her being. She could hear her own voice, a ferocious scream of focus and determination. The rift shuddered, the magic within crackled and sparked. There was a brilliant flash of green light as it exploded outward. A fiery pillar of energy surged up into the Breach, and a wave of magic radiated outward into the sky.


	3. Taking on the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice wakes up in Haven... where she meets the advisers and gets to know a little bit about Commander Cullen...

_Beatrice knew there were people nearby, she could hear them speaking in hushed whispers._

_Please let me know as soon as she wakes up" a woman was saying._

_Was that Cassandra?_

_"Her temperature is down and she's stopped thrashing about so much...." a man's voice...._

_who was that... she didn't recognize it..._

_"Has there been any change at all?"_

_The darkness threatened to swallow her whole.... Tris could feel herself slipping away..._

_"Is she going to be alright?"_

_"She seems to be getting better every day"_

_Please let me know if there is anything I can do..."_

_Thank you Commander...."_

* * *

Soft candle light filled the room.

Beatrice rolled onto her side. The bed was soft and warm. She sighed and opened her eyes.

_Wait... how did she..._

Scanning the room, her gaze settled on a servant, startling the poor elf.  "OOOH I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" Beatrice sat up, trying to remember how she got there. "It's alright, don't worry about it..."

She tried to reassure the frightened girl, but the elf dropped to her knees, "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, My Lady." The elf lifted her head, then dropped her eyes when she saw Beatrice looking at her. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand."

Tris looked down, her hand, the glowing mark, it _had_ seemed to stabilize. The elf lifted her face completely now and looked right at Beatrice, excitedly exclaiming "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days!"

"Then... the danger is over" Beatrice mused. "The Breach IS still in the sky. But that's what they say."

The servant continued, standing up "I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said _at once_." Getting off the bed, Beatrice wondered "and where is she?" The elf backed away, "In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. _AT ONCE_ , she said" running out of the room.

Beatrice stepped out into the village and stopped suddenly.

Everyone in the town was staring at her. Only this time, they weren't jeering or shouting insults. They stared at her in wonder. As if she was something awesome to behold. She slowly walked forward, their eyes on her, serene looks of admiration on their faces. Their right hands, fisted and at their hearts in salute. She continued on in silence, the entire town was out, watching her in absolute quiet.

Approaching the door to the Chantry, the sisters and clerks stood with their heads bowed in reverence. "That's HER, the one who stopped the Breach from spreading." She heard whispered as she walked past.

Beatrice took a deep breath and went inside. She heard loud shouting coming from a back room, and decided this must be where the Lady Seeker was. She opened the door and Chancellor Roderick angrily pointed at her, "Chain HER, I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial." Leliana and Cassandra were standing behind a large table, Cassandra stood and addressed the two Templar guards that were at the door. "Disregard that. And leave us." She said. Leliana just crossed her arms.

The Templars gave Beatrice the same salute the townspeople had before turning on their heel and walking out. "You walk a dangerous line, Seeker." Roderick seethed. Cassandra was quick to snap back, "The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will _NOT_ ignore it."

"So I'm still a suspect, after what we just did?" Beatrice asked dubiously. The Chancellor turned to her with a sneer, "you _absolutely_ are!"

"NO. She is _NOT_." replied the Seeker.

Leliana stepped forward, "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect." she said accusingly "Perhaps they died with the others, or have allies who yet live." Roderick was stunned " _I_ am a _suspect_?!" Leliana angrily spat "YOU, and many others!" "But NOT the prisoner!" The Chancellor argued.

"I heard the voices in the Temple. The Divine called to _her_ for _help_!" Cassandra insisted.

"So her survival, that _thing_ on her hand... all a coincidence?" Cassandra shook her head, " _Providence_. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour." "You _DO_ realize I'm a _MAGE_." Beatrice was not sure she was hearing correctly. "No matter what you are, you are exactly what we needed, when we needed it." Cassandra maintained. Leliana spoke softly, "The Breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it."

"This is _NOT_ for you to decide" the Chancellor grumbled. Cassandra had turned away for a moment, coming back to the table, she slammed a thick book down. "You know what THIS is, Chancellor." She said, indicating the book. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act." Cassandra stood straighter all of a sudden, her head held high and continued. "As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition _reborn_."

Walking towards Roderick, she went on "We will close the Breach. We will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval." Speechless, the Chancellor stormed out. Leliana spoke aloud, "This is the Divine's directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos." sighing, she contined "We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support." Cassandra was ready with an answer "But we have no choice: We must act now." And turning to Beatrice "With _YOU_ at our side."

Tris was stunned into silence, but found her voice after a moment. "What _IS_ the Inquisition of old, exactly?" Leliana replied "It predated the Chantry: People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad." Cassandra took over "After, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar Order. But the Templars have lost their way. We need those who can do what must be done, united under a single banner once more."

"But aren't you still _PART_ of the Chantry?" Beatrice asked. Cassandra snorted, "Is _THAT_ what you see?" Leliana interjected, "The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine. And then it will wait for her direction." Cassandra insisted "But WE cannot wait. So many Grand Clerics died at the Conclave.... No. We are on our own, perhaps forever."

Beatrice thought about it "If you're truly trying to restore order..." Cassandra offered her hand, "help us fix this, before it is too late." Tris knew deep down this was the right thing to do. She knew she was the only one who could close these rifts. How could she refuse.

Taking Cassandra's hand, she shook it energetically. The Lady Seeker smiled in agreement. "I will summon you back here once we have set some things in motion. You will need to meet with all of the advisors and we will need to decide what our next step is. But... thank you."

Beatrice wasn't sure what would happen next, but she was sent here to help, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

The same elf who had run off to tell Cassandra she was awake was back at her door the next morning. "My Lady, your presence is requested in the war room, as soon as possible." She scurried away without another word. Beatrice noticed the same revered looks from the people of Haven as she made her way to the Chantry.

Inside, the Seeker was waiting for her, "Does it trouble you?" Cassandra asked, indicating the mark on her hand.

"I just wish I knew what it was, or how I got it." Beatrice replied. Cassandra gave her a look of sympathy, "We _will_ find out. What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and hope. Solas believes a second attempt could succeed in sealing it, provided the mark has enough power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. _THAT_ is not easy to come by."

Beatrice shook her head, " _Sure_... What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand."

Cassandra laughed, "hold on to _that_ sense of humor, I have a feeling you're going to need it."

Inside the war room, several people were waiting, including Leliana and the Commander in the lion helm she had met during their assault on the Breach, as well as a women in a frilly blouse that she had never seen before.

"You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisitions forces." The Seeker said, motioning to the only man in the room.

Beatrice smiled, and unexpectedly, Commander Cullen smiled back at her.

"It was only for a moment on the field. I'm pleased you survived."

Cassandra moved on, "This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat." Lady Josephine nodded her head "I've heard much, it's a pleasure to meet you at last."

Finally Cassandra came to Leliana, "And of course you know Sister Leliana." The red head spoke up "My position here requires a degree of..." Cassandra interrupted "She is our spymaster." Leliana made a sour face, "Yes, tactfully put  Cassandra."

Beatrice smiled at everyone, "Pleased to meet you all."

The Lady Seeker got right down to business, "I mentioned that your mark will need more power to close the Breach for good." "Which means we're going to need to approach the rebel mages for help" offered Leliana. With a grumble, Cullen added "And I _STILL_ disagree. The Templars could serve just as well."

Cassandra sighed, as if this was not the first time she'd had this argument, "We need _power_ , Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark....." "Might destroy us all! Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it... so..." Cullen interrupted. Leliana cut the Commander short "Pure speculation." But Cullen was firm " _I_ was a Templar!" and dropping his voice low he said "I know what they're capable of."

There was a story there, and Beatrice found herself wanting to know what it was.

Josephine attempted to put an end to the debate, "Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition." pointing to Beatrice, "and _YOU_ specifically."

"That didn't take long" Tris replied.

Cullen seemed to bristle at this news, "Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who's going to become Divine?"

Josephine paid him no attention, "Some are calling you, a mage, _The Herald of Andraste_ , and that frightens the Chantry. The remaining Clerics have declared it blasphemy, and _WE_ heretics for harboring you."

Cassandra sneered "Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt."

Josephine continued "it limits our options, approaching the mages OR Templars for help is currently out of the question."

Beatrice was still trying to process everything, "just HOW am I the Herald of Andraste?" Cassandra softened, "People saw what you did at the Temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe _that_ was Andraste."

Leliana spoke now, "even if we tried to stop that view from spreading..."

"Which we have not," added Cassandra.

Leliana gave the Seeker a strange look, "The point is, everyone is talking about you."

Commander Cullen, smiling again, said "It's quite the title isn't it? How do you feel about that?"

"I'm not sure HOW I should feel. It's all a bit unsettling" Beatrice was only being honest.

"I'm sure the Chantry would agree," he said with a laugh.

"People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you're that sign." Leliana interjected. "And to others, a symbol of everything that's gone wrong" Josephine finished. Beatrice was incredulous "They're not concerned with the Breach, you know, the _REAL_ threat!"

Cullen sounded irritated "They do know it's a threat, they just don't think we can stop it."

Josephine went on, "The Chantry is telling everyone you will make it worse." Leliana brightened, "There is something you can do. A Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle, has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

"I'll see what she has to say then." Beatrice replied. Cullen added, "Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisitions influence while you're there in the Hinterlands." Josephine also had a suggestion "We need agents to extend our reach, and you're better suited to recruit them than anyone."

Cassandra shook her head, "In the meantime, let's think of other options, I won't leave all of this to the Herald." With that, the Seeker adjourned the meeting, and Beatrice was left standing in an empty Chantry.

A door was open to her right, and inside she heard Josephine speaking to a messenger. "Tell the Comte that we will NOT be providing proof of the Divine's passing, and if he is that curious, he is welcome to visit the ruins of the Temple at his leisure." The messenger nodded and walked away.

Josephine was smiling at Beatrice now, "My Lady Trevelyan, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit." Tris came in and leaned a hip on the desk. "I couldn't place it earlier, but I think we may have met before." At that Josephine erupted into a fit of giggles. "Yes... you're quite right, my family was a staple at your Great Aunt Lucille's parties."

Comprehension dawned on Beatrice's face, "Oh! That's where I remember you from! Great Aunt Lucille did love her parties." Josephine beamed, "And to garner an invitation was quite the social coup, the Montilyet's were the talk of Antiva City when we finally received one."

Tris smiled, "Yes, I didn't get to attend as many as I would have liked, but the ones I do remember were quite spectacular....."

It was hours later when Beatrice finally left Josie's office. It was nice reminiscing of happier times, and it was nicer still to have a friend to talk to. Gossiping with Josephine was just the slice of normalcy that she had needed. With a deep breath, she made her way out of the Chantry. Spotting Varric, she thought she would see how the dwarf was doing.

They chatted for a bit, apparently Varric had been good friends with the Champion of Kirkwall and had all sorts of adventures before Cassandra had basically kidnapped him and pressed him into service for the Inquisition. Beatrice offered to buy him a pint, wanting to hear all about it, but he seemed distracted. "Another time, I promise... you'll get all the juicy details." He said with a wink. "But right now, we have more important things to worry about, like that giant hole in the sky." Tris couldn't help laughing as she wandered off. She liked Varric, and hoped they would become friends.

Exploring Haven, she bumped into Solas, he wanted to know how she was feeling. "Fine, I suppose. The mark hasn't gotten any bigger, so that's an improvement." The solemn elf quirked his head, "Yes, that is true." She asked him all about the fade, and was surprised at how much they had in common in their views of spirits. It was refreshing to speak to someone who didn't view magic as a completely dangerous and impractical skill.

For his part, Solas seemed happy enough that she was asking him so many questions. His responses often including a laugh or a smile. She was glad that he was here to help, it was nice to have another mage around. "I should let you get back to your duties." He said with a nod. "I will speak with you again soon Solas, I enjoyed our conversation." Beatrice replied. "As did I Herald, as did I." he waved her off as she walked into the potion master's cabin.

An hour later, she was heading back towards her quarters, her pockets clinking with the vials of health and lyrium potions she had made. Beatrice was almost to her room when she heard the unmistakable noise of swords clashing and soldiers shouting. It didn't sound like a battle, but she was still curious. Abandoning her route, she walked out through the door of the city gate.

Tents were set up outside the walls of Haven, and dozens of soldiers were engaged in mock battle. No doubt training for when the Inquisition had need of them. Amidst the fighters, Beatrice saw Commander Cullen.

 _Now would be a good time to say hello_ , she thought to herself.

 _And to see if this former Templar might have an issue with you being a mage_ , said a darker voice in her head.

She stood off to the side, listening for a moment, as Cullen was addressing one of the recruits. "You there! There's a shield in your hand. _Block_ with it. If this man were your enemy, you would be dead." She lifted the back of her hand to her lips to hide her smile. The Commander turned to one of his men, "Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one." "Yes Commander." The Templar saluted and marched off.

Seeing that he was free, Beatrice stepped up to speak with him. Cullen crossed his arms and turned to her, "We've received a number of recruits, locals from Haven and some pilgrims." Then with a sly grin he added "none made _quite_ the entrance you did."

"At least I got everyone's attention" Beatrice joked. "That you did" he said with a smile. "I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself. I was there during the mage uprising." He gestured for her to walk with him. "I saw firsthand the devastation it caused."

A messenger rushed up behind them. "Ser!" Cullen continued to talk as the messenger handed him a report "Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse."

Beatrice agreed, "The conclave destroyed, a giant hole in the sky... things aren't looking good." With a serious expression, Cullen went on, "Which is why we're needed. The Chantry lost control of both Templars and Mages. Now they argue over a new Divine, while the Breach remains!"

He turned and handed the report back to the waiting messenger. With renewed enthusiasm he faced Beatrice again, "The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There's SO MUCH we can...." he laughed and shook his head "forgive me, My Lady, I doubt you came here for a lecture."

Tris couldn't help but smile, "No, but if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it." Cullen laughed again and gave her a charming smile, "Another time perhaps... I, ah" he nervously cleared his throat as Beatrice stifled a laugh. Looking away, he changed the subject, "There's still a lot of work ahead," just as another courier approached.

"Commander! Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines."

Turning to Tris as he took the report, his Templar swagger was back, and he gave her a wicked grin as he walked away, "As I was saying..."

As Beatrice strolled back to her room, she couldn't help smiling to herself. Cullen was going to be interesting, she could already tell.

Just _how_ interesting was yet to be decided.

Organizing her potions and gear, she realized she needed to speak with the smithy about crafting a new staff. The one she had used when she closed the rift was probably laying in the dirt somewhere, and besides, it wasn't very powerful anyway. She was also going to need some new robes too, these mercenary rags she was wearing simply would not do.

Heading back out the city gates, she couldn't help looking for the Commander. She saw his golden head bowed over a table, no doubt engrossed in some report or missive. Her lips curled into a grin as she continued on to the forge.

After pouring over the many plans and schematics available to her, she had finally decided on some new battle mage armor and an apostate's staff. They were the best that the smithy had on hand, but he assured her that new, better, plans could be purchased or procured. He advised her to be on the lookout for anything that might be an improvement on their current inventory, adding that it could benefit all of the Inquisition, not just the Herald. Beatrice assured him that she would keep an eye out.

Taking her new staff in hand, she wanted to test it out.

She headed up the road a bit, to where there were no soldiers or people around. Smiling to herself as the familiar surge of magic flowed through her, she cast a chain lightening spell. The ground around her hissed and crackled with electricity. She looked around to make sure no one had seen, then with a laugh, she fade stepped away. Coming to a halt, she spun her weapon and with a flourish of her arm, sent a fire ball crashing into a nearby tree.

Her laughter filled the little clearing as she cast her spells with abandon. It felt like forever and a day since she last used magic like this, not to fight or defend herself, but for the pure enjoyment of it. Satisfied that this staff would do for now, Beatrice looked to the sky. The Breach was still there, but it did not inspire the same dread that it had before. She knew that somehow, they would find a way to seal it for good.

The sun was still high enough that she knew it to be mid afternoon, so she headed back towards the city, intending to find Varric and insist on that pint. But as she neared the gate, a voice called out to her. "Herald, if you have a moment, I had meant to ask you something earlier."

Commander Cullen was standing, arms crossed, at the bottom of the stairs. He gave her a timid smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

Beatrice returned his smile and walked with him back to where the recruits were training. "You traveled some distance to reach Haven. You're from the Circle in Ostwick? He began.

 _And here it comes_ , she thought.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke cautiously, "I spent the better part of my life there. It feels strange to be away."

He nodded in agreement, "It does, at times. I'm still getting used to it myself. It's been... _interesting_." Seeing her face, Cullen abruptly apologized. "I... I'm sorry. The Circle isn't the most pleasant topic of conversation right now. Or... _ever_. Shall we speak of something else."

Beatrice waved away his apology, "No, it's alright. I'd actually like to know more about the Templars." Cullen scoffed, "If you need insight into what the Order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know. Anything else, I will answer as best I can."

"Why did _you_ join the Order?" she asked.

"I could think of no better calling than to protect those in need." with a smile he went on "I used to beg the Templars at our local Chantry to teach me. At first they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise, or at least a willingness to learn. The Knight-Captain spoke to my parents on my behalf. They agreed to send me for training. I was thirteen when I left home."

Tris knitted her brows together in sympathy "Thirteen... that's still so young."

Cullen explained, "I wasn't the youngest there, some children are promised to the Order at infancy. Still, I didn't take on full responsibilities until I was eighteen. The Order sees you trained and educated first."

"What about your family? Did you miss them?" she inquired.

"Of course. But there were many my age who felt the same. We learned to look out for one another."

"Before the Conclave, I'd only encountered Templars in the Circle. Do they do anything besides guard mages?"

"Templars protect against the dangers of magic. Before the Order left the Chantry, that meant serving at a Circle. They were also tasked with tracking apostates or fighting demons inevitably summoned by the weak or malicious."

Beatrice saw her chance, "What do _you_ think of mages? Are they _all_ a threat?"

Cullen set his jaw, "I've seen the suffering magic can inflict. I've treated mages with distrust because of it... at times without cause. He softened his tone now, as he looked into her eyes. "But that was unworthy of me... I will try not to do so here." adding with a sigh "Not that I want mages moving through our base _completely_ unchecked. We need safeguards in place to protect people, including mages, from possession, at the least."

Smiling, she tilted her head, "I know how I spent _MY_ time in the Circle, but what was a typical day for a Templar like?"

He laughed scornfully, " _Typical_. The last time I was in the circle was right before it fell apart. Nothing was _typical_."

"Before that then" she prodded.

With a sigh, he crossed his arms again and continued, "Certain rituals require a full guard. A mages Harrowing for instance. I've attended a few. Most of the time you merely maintain a presence... on patrol or in the Circle. Ready to respond if needed. Mages pretend to ignore that presence, but they are watching you just as closely."

She remembered back to Ostwick... "We would spend all day with Templars, and yet they rarely spoke to us."

He smiled sadly, "A habit often mistaken for coldness, I'm sure. But we are expected to keep a certain distance from our charges."

" _We?_ " She said with a smirk, catching his mistake. Some part of himself still identified with the Order.

He shook his head and went on, "If a mage is possessed or uses blood magic, you must act quickly, without hesitation. Your judgment cannot be clouded. Of course, ignoring one another does nothing to foster understanding."

Beatrice still wanted to know more, "What does Templar training involve."

Cullen thought about it for a moment, "There is weapon and combat training. Even without their abilities, Templars are among the best warriors in Thedas. Initiates must also memorize portions of the Chant of Light, study history, and improve their mental focus."

"Did you enjoy your training?"

Cullen smiled again, "I wanted to learn everything. If I was giving my life to this, I would be the best Templar I could."

"A model student then?" She said with grin.

He laughed in response, "I wanted to be. I wasn't always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfigurations wasn't the most exciting task. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered."

Beatrice was curious about something, "Do Templars take vows? You know, _I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages_ , that sort of thing?"

Cullen looked thoughtful for a moment, "There's a vigil first. You're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life _is_ about to change. When it's over, you give yourself to a life of service. That's when you're given a _philter_... your first draught of lyrium... and its power. As Templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen."

Tris bit her lower lip, "A life of service and sacrifice. Are Templars also expected to give up... physical temptations?"

Cullen's cheeks turned red, " _Physical_? Why...." he nervously cleared his throat again "Why would you.... no... that's not expected. Templars CAN marry... although there are rules around it, and the Order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's... um... not required."

She decided to push the issue, "Have _you_?" she asked sweetly.

He looked around at anything but her, then meekly answered, " _Me_? I... um.... no. I've taken no such vows. _Makers breath_... can we speak of something else."

"Alright then," she paused, she _did_ want to get to know him better, "you never said where you were from."

Cullen was still blushing, but he had uncrossed his arms now and seemed to want to continue their conversation. "I grew up in Ferelden, near Honnleath. I was transferred to Kirkwall shortly after the blight. This is the first I've returned in almost ten years."

"You haven't seen Ferelden in ten years." this made her sad. "Are you glad to be back?"

Cullen looked wistful, "I was not sorry to leave at the time. I did not expect to return. _Now_ , between the Divine's murder and the Breach, I've arrived to find nothing but chaos."

Beatrice looked away, then realized what he had said. "Wait... you were in Ferelden during the blight. Did you fight darkspawn?"

"No. I was... stationed at Ferelden's Circle Tower. The Circle had troubles of its own. I.... remained there during the blight" he spoke with something she could not place... regret... sadness maybe.

"What happened at the Circle tower?" She asked gently.

"Few who survived the blight have... fond memories of that time. I would prefer not to speak of it."

Beatrice decided not to push him, "What was Kirkwall like."

He took a deep breath, "While I was there, Qunari occupied and then attacked the city. The Viscount's murder caused political unrest, relations between mages and Templars fell apart, an apostate blew up the Chantry, and the Knight-Commander went mad. Other than that... it was _fine_."

Beatrice was not expecting humor, albeit dry humor, from him. She was taken by surprise, but recovered quickly, "What happened between Kirkwall's mages and Templars?"

Cullen crossed his arms again, "You were at the Conclave. You must have heard people speak of it."

"Yes, but you were _there_..." she had been curious about this for so long. He sighed heavily, "There was tension between mages and Templars long before I arrived. Eventually, it reached a breaking point. There was fighting in the streets. Abominations began killing both sides. It was a nightmare."

So what she'd heard was true. "What happened then? How did it end?"

Cullen was becoming agitated, "The Templars should have restored order, but red lyrium had driven Knight-Commander Meredith mad. She threatened to kill Kirkwall's Champion, turned on her own men. I'm not sure how far she would have gone. _Too far_."

Tris was surprised again, "So you opposed her?"

"I stood with the Champion against her. In the end. But I should have seen through Meredith sooner."

Tris knitted her brows together, "You can't possibly blame yourself for what happened. You were only obeying orders."

He shook his head, "But I should not have followed blindly, I should have... questioned her motivations. I sat back and watched her madness take hold of the city, and I did _nothing_."

This was obviously a painful topic. Beatrice decided to ask him a different question, "Varric's from Kirkwall, did you know each other?"

Relief seemed to wash over him at the change in subject, "I knew he was friends with the Champion of Kirkwall, but little else. We've spoken more since I joined the Inquisition. Largely at Varric's insistence. Apparently I spend too much time with a serious expression on my face, and it's bad for my health."

Beatrice laughed. Raising one eyebrow, Cullen gave her a suspicious look. "I should let you get back to your reports." He was still eyeing her cautiously when she smiled brightly. "He's right you know" She said as she turned to leave, "You _should_ smile more."

"And _why_ is that..." He asked carefully.

" _Because_ you have a _lovely_ smile, and it would be a shame if you didn't use it." And with that, she walked away, leaving the Commander standing there, speechless. As she climbed the stairs to the gate, she thought to herself, _I never did let him ask me whatever it was he wanted to know_...


	4. Nobody Can Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures in the Hinterlands and the tension between Mages and Templars reaches a boiling point in Haven...  
> Also Commander Cullen has a very interesting evening...

It was early morning when they gathered to leave for the Hinterlands.

Cassandra was fussing with her gear while Varric and Solas were discussing the best route to take. Beatrice yawned, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. It was early spring but the mountain air still had a chill. Haven was just waking up around them as they made their way towards the gate. A woman suddenly ran up to Tris, a bundle in her arms.

"My Lady" the elf began, "I baked this fresh this morning, please take it, and may the Maker watch over you and bring you back to us safe and sound."

"Thank you..." Beatrice started to say, but the woman already had run off.

Turning to Cassandra she was puzzled. "This hero worshiping thing is going to get old, _fast_..." The Seeker smiled at her, "You are a Holy woman in their eyes... they will continue to treat you with reverence so long as you deserve it."

"Do I deserve it though? I haven't really done _anything_ miraculous."

Solas gave her a look, "That isn't true now is it. You have sealed rifts and stopped the Breach from spreading across the sky. Is that not miraculous?"

"They're simple people, with simple beliefs." Varric assured her, "They need something to give them hope, and right now... that something is you. I say go with it... The more people who want to buy you a drink, the better."

Tris sighed to herself as she tucked the bundle into her pack.

"We'd best get moving if we hope to make the Hinterlands within the week." Cassandra declared. "Leliana already sent scouts ahead to make camp and do reconnaissance, hopefully we will be back within a fortnight."

A patrol of soldiers was going to be following them with supplies and Cassandra paused at the gates to speak with them. Unconsciously, Beatrice searched the crowd of soldiers that were training. She found Commander Cullen amongst the recruits almost instantly. He was wearing his lion helm again, and it shone brightly in the early morning sun. He appeared to be sparing with a man wearing Templar armor.

Cullen held his shield high as he struck the Templar with his sword. The Templar nearly fell back, trying to regain his footing, he attempted to parry the Commander's blow. But Cullen was too quick, he twisted around and used the pummel of his weapon to strike the unfortunate man, who went sprawling in the dirt.

Beatrice could see the Commander's shoulders shake with laughter. Sheathing his sword and setting his shield aside, he offered a hand to the fallen man. Cullen clapped him on the back and must have said something, because the Templar saluted and marched off.

Beatrice had to have been starting intently because she didn't hear Varric slide up beside her, "He's quite the warrior isn't he?"

Tris mumbled agreeably and Varric continued, "Saw him fight first hand when the Champion of Kirkwall took on Knight-Commander Meredith. He stood with us then, and it's a good thing too. Meredith was powerful because of all that red lyrium. But Cullen was fearless. Then when the fight was over, he just let us all walk out of there, including _Blondie_... that surprised me. But then again, I'm pretty sure Cullen knew he would lose in a fight against Hawke."

Before Beatrice could say anything, Cullen had sauntered over to where they were leaning against the low wall. He was lifting off his lion helm as he spoke, "Off to the Hinterlands already, I thought you would have a few more days here in Haven to prepare."

Beatrice shook her head, "Cassandra wants to get to Mother Giselle before anything happens to her. Leliana's scouts report heavy fighting between Rebel Mages and Templars all throughout the area. There is a mass gathering of refugees who desperately need help. We're the only ones who are in any position to offer them aid."

Cullen nodded his approval, "Yes, I supposed Cassandra is right. But I... I had... hoped...." His voice trailed off and he was rubbing his neck again.

"Don't sound so grim Curly... we'll be back before you even have a chance to miss her." Varric teased, as he walked away.

Cullen just looked down, completely mortified.

Beatrice rested her hand on his arm, "Don't let Varric get to you... he loves to push buttons."

Cullen laughed softly, " _Yes well_ , it wouldn't be so bad if he didn't always know exactly the right buttons _to_ push."

His head was still down, but he lifted his eyes to meet hers. Beatrice could feel the heat rush to her cheeks. She smiled at him. Cullen stood up and put his lion helm back on, then he dropped his head close to Tris's ear, his voice a low rumble, "May the Maker watch over you and keep you safe. _Come back to us...soon_ "

Her cheeks were still burning when she rejoined the others. Cassandra gave her a wary look, "What did the Commander want?"

"Oh... nothing...  just to wish us a safe journey." Beatrice muttered. "Hmmmmmph" Cassandra grunted. Tris walked a little bit ahead of her, and let out a breath. She turned back to see Haven one last time and caught Varric grinning at her.

Scout Harding was reporting that there was heavy fighting in the crossroads, exactly the place they needed to go. Mages vs Templars.

Cassandra held her hand up as they approached the fighting, shouting out to the Templars that we meant them no harm. "I don't think they care Seeker," quipped Varric.

There were at least a dozen Templars engaged in battle with a large number of rebel Mages. Fire balls and lightning bolts were flying in all directions. Giant icicles erupted out of the ground. Waves of dispelling magic washed over the rebel mages as the Templars gained the upper hand.

Beatrice and Cassandra saw their chance and flanked several of the knights, easily taking them down. Solas and Varric were working on another cluster of Templars when the rebel mages saw them. Two mages hurled winters grasp at Cassandra, Solas was barely able to get a barrier up in time. The Seeker didn't have time to show her gratitude, as she shield bashed the closest mage to the ground. Beatrice caught the other one in a blast of fire that sent him panicking.

Solas shouted over the din of battle "We are NOT your enemies."

Varric just shook his head, "you know Chuckles, I don't think _they_ care either."

After a few more well placed spells, the mages were routed. The skirmish was over faster than they were anticipating. Neither the mages nor the Templars seemed very organized. "Are they just attacking on _sight_?" Wondered Cassandra.

"Well whatever they're trying to do, it's just going to end up getting innocent people killed." Beatrice replied. "Time to find the Mother then" Cassandra sighed as she led them towards a group of buildings. There were wounded everywhere, families displaced, cold and hungry.

"We have to help them" Tris insisted.

"We will do what we can, but our mission is to get Mother Giselle." Cassandra didn't seem very happy about this either.

Beatrice approached one of the Inquisitions soldiers, "Who's in charge here?" The man saluted, "Herald, we had not expected you so soon. Captain Vale has been put in charge of the relief effort, please see him for specifics."

Cassandra grumbled, "I want to help these people just as much as you do, but our orders...." she started.

"Hang the orders!" Beatrice replied angrily, "these people need our help more than we need names for Leliana's spies. We _will_ find Mother Giselle, but we will also do everything in our power to assist these refugees." Cassandra nodded curtly.

Heading in the direction of the Inquisition camp, Tris was appalled by what she was seeing. These refugees had no food, no warm blankets or clothes, some of them needed medicine, and they were in constant fear for their lives.

Whatever it took, they were going to help these people.

Captain Vale had directed them to locate blankets and food, so that was the plan as the four of them traipsed along the uneven terrain. Cassandra seemed to take great pleasure in Varric's misery , he was, at his insistence, a city Dwarf, and not used to such a rugged landscape.

They were hunting down caches of goods belonging to the rebel Mages, so far they'd found two... and established just as many Inquisition camps. "This should help stabilize the area," Cassandra said agreeably "and we've got word of a Templar encampment up the main road. Taking that out would definitely ensure safe passage for any who come through here."

The party made their way north, until they came across a group of Templars milling about a camp, they were easily dispatched and Cassandra motioned for Beatrice to follow her quietly. They snuck up a ridge, where Cassandra pointed out the Templar fortifications up ahead. "They will be well defended, we will need to strike them fast and hard." Beatrice nodded.

They carefully avoided detection as they made their way into position. Solas and Tris managed to take out the forward guards without a fuss, while Varric kept the ones farther back busy with a hail storm of cross bow bolts. Methodically, they worked their way through the camp, until all of the Templars were defeated. Sheathing her weapon, Cassandra turned to Beatrice and smiled. "That will most definitely help. There is still much to do, but we should find Mother Giselle as soon as possible now."

Captain Vale was very appreciative of all they had done, and pledged himself as an agent of the Inquisition, promising to send any potential recruits to Commander Cullen. They weren't finished in the Hinterlands, not by far, but Beatrice felt as if they'd at least done something to make life easier for the refugees.

Captain Vale told them they would find Mother Giselle in the crossroads, helping the wounded.

The Mother was busy but had been waiting for Beatrice to arrive. "Well met, Herald of Andraste." Mother Giselle greeted.

"You know I'm the Herald?" Tris replied, a bit wary. "Yes. I have been expecting you. I have heard much of what you have been doing here for these people, and I believe you may be able to help keep the Chantry from tearing itself apart."

Beatrice couldn't help but scoff at that, "The Chantry has declared me a heretic. Why would you think they would even consider my aid."

"Because _YOU_ are the only one who can close these rifts. And the Breach threatens all of Thedas." The Mother calmly replied. "You must do all that you can to restore peace. The Chantry is fighting amongst themselves right now, but soon they will see that what you are doing is the Makers work."

"That was always what my goal, Mother, to bring order back to the world." Tris sighed.

"Good, then I will join your Inquisition, and provide Sister Nightingale with a list of names, of Clerics that might be persuaded to see reason."

" _What_? Just like that..." Beatrice was doubtful.

"Yes. I see the good you are trying to accomplish, and I think I can be of more benefit in Haven, than here. I just have one request."

"Ah... and here it is... there's _always_ a catch." Beatrice said.

Mother Giselle looked annoyed by continued, "Not a catch, but I would like you to go to Val Royeaux and address the Chantry. Give them reason to doubt your heresy, show them that you mean only to do the Makers work and seal the Breach."

With a heavy sign, Tris agreed.

 _This was not going to end well_ , she thought.

"Then please, let us return to Haven together." Mother Giselle stated before walking away towards the Inquisition camp.

"Well alright then...since she's in charge now, I guess she'll be striking any enemies we might encounter down with her razor sharp faith." Tris smirked to Varric as Cassandra rolled her eyes.

They'd only been in the Hinterlands for a week, but Beatrice was pleased with the speed in which they were able to accomplish their goals. The road back to Haven seemed shorter this time, and soon their party was outside the city walls. Passing the blacksmith, Mother Giselle declared that she was going to find Leliana immediately. Cassandra muttered something about wanting to read, while Varric announced he was heading to the tavern for several pints of their best ale, and Solas... Solas just seemed to disappear.

Shaking her head but happy, for the first time in recent memory, Tris continued onward, only stopping at the main gate to scan the heads of the recruits for golden curls. Disappointed that she couldn't find Cullen, she made her way into the city. She was heading to her quarters, when she heard angry shouting coming from the Chantry and abandoned all previous thoughts to investigate.

There were at least seventy-five people clustered around the entrance.

Templars on one side and Mages on the other, all yelling and arguing at once.

An angry Templar shouted above the rabble, "Your kind killed the most Holy!"

"Lies! _Your_ kind let her DIE!" cried a mage in reply.

The angry Templar went to draw his sword while screaming, "SHUT YOUR MOUTH, MAGE!"

Suddenly Cullen was standing between them, shoving them apart, " _ENOUGH_!" he snarled.

The Templar was startled, "Knight-Captain..."

But Cullen was furious, "That is _NOT_ my title. We are _NOT_ Templars any longer. We are _ALL_ part of the Inquisition!" his voice was an angry growl. But just as those fighting were cowed into submission, Chancellor Roderick slithered out of the crowd, "and _WHAT_ does that mean, exactly?"

Cullen looked like he was ready to throttle the Chancellor. With an angry sneer the Commander replied, "Back already Chancellor? Haven't you done enough?" Roderick didn't miss a beat, "I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and it's _Herald_ will restore order as you've promised."

The little shit was grandstanding to the crowd, trying to incite more unrest.

Cullen was not amused, "of course you are" he grumbled, then addressing the mob in a harsh tone, "back to your duties, _all of you_!" It was an order, not a request, and the throng dispersed, leaving only Beatrice, Cullen and the Chancellor standing there.

The Commander was firmly planted in front of the Chantry doors, his arms crossed in defiance, as Roderick sneered at him. Cullen's stern gaze softened when he noticed Beatrice was there. "H...Herald... I had not realized you'd returned." He stammered, the hint of a smile played upon his lips.

She approached the two men cautiously, you could cut the tension with a battleaxe.

Speaking to Cullen first, "We just got back actually, Mother Giselle has agreed to help, with the condition that I go to Val Royeaux and address the Chantry personally."

Cullen looked concerned, but she waved him off. Then turning to Roderick, she added "What ill tidings bring you back to our doorstep Chancellor?"

Cullen barked out a cruel laugh, "Mages and Templars were _already_ at war, now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

Roderick rudely interrupted, "which is _why_ we require a _proper_ authority to guide them back to order."

Cullen was incensed, "Who, _YOU_? Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"

The Chancellor bit back, "The rebel _'Inquisition'_ and it's so called ' _Herald of Andraste_ '? I THINK NOT!"

Beatrice had heard enough, "At least we're _TRYING_ to restore order, instead of squabbling amongst ourselves. Cullen is _right_ , those left lobbying for power weren't important enough to be at the Conclave in the first place, none of you are suited to rule the Chantry. And while we're far from perfect, the Inquisition seems about as functional as any young family."

Roderick glared at her, "How many families are on the verge of splitting into open ware fare with themselves?"

Cullen laughed sarcastically, "Yes, because _that would never happen to the Chantry_."

Chancellor Roderick held his head high, "Centuries of tradition will guide us. We are not the upstart, eager to turn over every apple cart."

Shaking her head, Tris turned to Cullen and scathingly asked, "Remind me why you're allowing the Chancellor to stay."

Roderick sneered back, "Clearly, _your Templar_ knows where to draw the line."

Cullen bristled, "He's toothless! There's no point in turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth." Then turning to Tris, his expression softened and his voice dropped, "The Chancellor's a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."

Sighing, Beatrice asked, "Just how wide spread _IS_ the violence between mages and Templars anyway?"

Cullen shook his head, "It's impossible to say."

Roderick added, "Your organization flouting the Chantry's authority will not help matters."

The Commander scoffed, "With the Conclave destroyed, I imagine the war between Mages and Templars has renewed, with interest."

Tris was exasperated, "The Mages and Templars are fighting even though we don't _KNOW_ what really happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes!?"

Roderick insisted, "Exactly _WHY_ all this should be left to a _NEW_ Divine. If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so."

Beatrice angrily shook her head while Cullen voiced his own frustration, "Or they'll be happy to use _someone_ as a scapegoat."

Tris spat back, "How can you insist on my guilt, after everything I've done and continue to do!"

Roderick laughed, "You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve Justinia's loss."

Cullen was tone was deadly, "But you won't grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet."

Tris looked at the Commander now, "Well, let's hope we find solutions in Val Royeaux, and not a cathedral full of _Chancellors_."

Cullen gave her a smirk and a wink, "The stuff of _nightmares_."

Roderick was not entertained, "Mock if you will, I'm certain the Maker is less amused."

Cullen turned to her, his expression once again serious, "I will keep the peace while you and the others appeal to the Chantry in Val Royeaux."

The Chancellor added, "Better ready yourself, for the blame you will be _rightly_ assigned."

Cullen angrily faced Roderick, "That's enough from you today, you _WILL_ not address the Herald with such disdain."

The Chancellor wrinkled his nose as if he smelled an unpleasant odor and turned on his heal, storming off in retreat. Cullen closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't like the idea of you going to Val Royeaux at all, but I understand that it may be in the Inquisitions best interests to show the Chantry that you are not their enemy."

Tris forced a smile, "You know me... making friends where ever I go... I'm sure the Clerics will be won over by my wit and charm in no time."

Cullen chuckled and set his honey eyes on her, " _Yes_... I'm _sure_ that's what will happen. But... promise me... as you wield this _devastating_ charm of yours, that you'll be _careful_. You're walking into a vipers nest and I... _I just wish I could be there to keep you safe_."

Tris felt her heart flutter at his words, "I will do my best...and besides... Cassandra has offered to go... to protect me"

Cullen smiled at her, his lip quirking up ever so slightly. She was becoming dizzy and needed to change the subject, "Well... I'm safe enough for tonight. We won't be leaving for at least another day, I think."

" _Good_...." She heard him say softly, as he turned to break up a group of mages that had clustered around the requisition tent. " _Good_."

Beatrice needed to speak to Josie... now was as good a time as any. The Lady Ambassador had her door open, she was absentmindedly humming as she was reading. Beatrice smiled as she entered her office, "well the mood in here is certainly more cheerful than the rest of Haven." Josephine giggled, "yes, I heard the commotion. The Commander was quite _forceful_ in his handling of the situation, wasn't he."

Tris just nodded her head and made an agreeable sound. Josie was giggling again. "Coming from the Circle, you must be quite tired of all this. You probably can't stand the Templars anymore."

"Not really," Beatrice answered, "I don't hate the Templars, I never have. My grandfather was a Templar actually... and when I was in Ostwick, I even had a love affair with one."

Josie's eye brows shot up, "No! What happened!" she breathed.

Tris was thoughtful for a moment, "It... was lovely for a time. We were completely infatuated with each other. But.... _he died_."

Josephine looked so sad, "How tragic! You must tell me everything..." then she stood up and closed the door to her office.

It must have been hours later, the candles had almost burned down completely. "That... was... oh _Beatrice_... I'm so sorry."

"It was over three years ago... I... I'm fine now." Beatrice sighed. Josie stood up again and gave her a hug, then produced a lace handkerchief and dabbed her own eyes. "Oh Maker! Look at me, I'm a mess!" Beatrice laughed, Josie was most definitely not a mess.

Just then the door opened without a knock, and Leliana and Cassandra both stomped in, arguing.

"Leliana, we have been through this. I will go with her, I will ensure she returns to us unharmed." Cassandra was saying.

"Absolutely not. We cannot take such a risk, the Herald might be imprisoned or worse, killed, if the Templars decide that she is guilty." Leliana was insistent. Josephine smoothed her hair back and lifted her head high, "My dears, it is a calculated risk, but I believe that the Herald's presence in Val Royeaux will be worth it in the end. We must show the nobility and the Chantry alike that we are not their enemy."

Beatrice started to say something, but a great yawn escaped her lips. Cassandra tilted her head, "Have you rested since we returned, you said you were going to take a nap, what have you been doing all day?"

Joesphine and Tris exchanged guilty looks, Leliana crinkled her nose and laughed, "Oh Josie, gossiping again."

"It's only that the Herald has lived such an interesting life, and you should hear the story of her dead Templar lover." Josephine started.

" _JOSIE_!" Tris exclaimed.

"Well it's true; Leliana, just wait until you hear the tale." she continued.

"Another time perhaps" Cassandra cut in " _right now_ , she needs to rest, we are leaving for Val Royeaux in the morning."

Leliana set her jaw and stormed out, while Josephine went back to her reports. Cassandra just sighed and motioned for Tris to follow her out. The Seeker walked her all the way to her quarters, staring daggers at any who approached them.

"Rest now, I will ensure that you are not bothered for the rest of the evening, Herald."

 

* * *

 

The sun was just beginning to set as Commander Cullen was walking back from a meeting with Leliana. Lady Josephine was outside the Chantry, seemingly pacing back and forth, it looked like she was talking to herself.

"Lady Ambassador, is everything _alright_?" he approached.

"Oh _Commander_ , yes, well no, well... _yes_. Let me start over. I am late for a meeting with a visiting dignitary but I also have these notes for the Herald that will help her navigate the murky waters of the Chantry's politics when she arrives in Val Royeaux. I must have picked an inopportune moment to search for a messenger because I cannot seem to find anyone right now, and these notes must be delivered to the Herald immediately. But I do not have the time to do so myself." Josie was rambling now.

"Would it help if I delivered them. I'm going right by the Herald's quarters"

He tried to soften his stern expression. "It would be no trouble at all."

Josephine beamed, "Oh _Commander_! Thank you!"

She handed him a neat stack of parchment tied with red string. Then she was off, skipping back to her office inside the Chantry. Cullen shook his head, _such optimism, that one_ , he thought.

The mages and Templars had been staying away from each other for the most part since the altercation that morning. He was still worried that the Chancellor would attempt to incite another angry mob, but things had been mostly quiet all afternoon. The Commander was sure that Roderick was just waiting for another opportunity to stir everyone up again, but he would just have to be more vigilant in keeping tabs on the man.

He promised the Herald he would maintain peace and that's what he intended to do. He would write a report and have patrols doubled, make sure to keep the two factions busy in tasks that were well away from each other. Whatever he could do until they returned that would ensure the conflict was kept to a minimum.

Cullen had been walking at a brisk pace, only to have one of his lieutenants catch up to him from the opposite direction. "Report from Captain Vale for you Ser." The man handed him the clipboard and then departed.

The Commander began to read as he walked to the Herald's door. Knocking once, he was not paying attention and simply entered without waiting for a reply. He was still reading as the door gently closed behind him and he looked up, expecting to see her sitting at the desk or standing by the window. Instead, his eyes slowly drifted to the bed, where Beatrice was fast asleep, _without a stitch of clothing on_.

Cullen nearly fumbled the papers Josephine had given him.

His jaw dropped and he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. He lifted the report to his face.

" _Maker_! _Forgive me_..."

Beatrice didn't stir, she _had_ been exhausted after all, and now was in a deep sleep.

Cullen swallowed hard. He would not look at her, he would set the papers down and leave as quietly as possible.

 _He would not look at her_.

Slowly, he inched his way to her desk, placing the neatly bundled stack at the center. He was contemplating writing her a note, apologizing about invading her privacy, and explaining what it was he was leaving for her, when he heard her sigh heavily.

He couldn't help the reflex to turn his head. This time... he didn't shield his eyes.

Beatrice had shifted in her sleep, she was on her side now, facing the room, _facing him_. The thin cotton of the blanket left little to the imagination. She had slipped one of her long legs out from under the covers and had bent her knee just so. His eyes drank her in.

The sultry curve of her hip and thigh, dipping down into her delicate waist, her breasts were barely covered, but he could see their fullness as they softly rose and fell with her breathing. And her face, _Maker's breath..._ she was so beautiful. Her lovely features were arranged in a peaceful expression. Her dark auburn hair was tousled into soft ringlets that fanned out onto her pillow. Full rosy lips were parted slightly, as if she were sighing.

He felt a tight coil of desire awaken in his belly. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

Beatrice whimpered in her sleep and Cullen's eyes snapped open. He protectively took a step closer to her and then froze as he caught himself. _What was he doing_.

She made another little noise, a soft moan this time, and his heart ached to hold her. To soothe her back to sleep, to give her peace and rest. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes once more.

                _Maker preserve him, this is impossible, he could not afford to have thoughts such as these_.

 _She was the Herald of Andraste and he was the Commander of the Inquisitions forces_.

 _This. Was. Impossible_.

Still, he allowed himself one more moment to watch her sleep.

This was a voyeuristic indiscretion that he would most likely regret later, but right now, he could not tear himself away from her.

She had slid her arms up around her pillow and rolled slightly onto her stomach. Her face was resting against the white softness of her own skin. She smiled in her sleep and whispered his name.

He had forgotten how to breath.

Standing by her bedside, his mouth agape, the only sound the thundering of his heart. And then he heard it again, softer this time...... she breathed his name.

" _Cullen_..."

His desire intensified, the tightness in his belly was becoming more than he could bare.

                _Could she feel the same way... yes they'd exchanged flirty banter on more than one occasion but..._

_could this be something deeper..._

_He'd always hoped... no... it was something beyond hope..._

_his life...   his burdens... his demons... how could he pollute her with such things..._

_it was his job to protect her... to keep her safe... even if that meant keeping her safe from himself...._

Beatrice rolled onto her back, the coverlet slipping down, exposing her perfect breasts. He heard himself groan.

She lolled her head to one side, her disheveled hair falling into her face. In an impulsive move, Cullen reached down and gently smoothed it back, tucking it behind her ear. His thumb tracing the line of her jaw. Calloused fingers tenderly brushing her cheek.

She smiled again and sighed. He wanted to kiss her. To bend down and claim her mouth with his own. But that would be too bold; he wouldn't risk her fury if this was not what she wanted.

 _What she wanted_....

" _Cullen...._ " she murmured.

He stood up and looked away, it physically pained him to take his gaze from her, but he had to go. If she cried his name in her sleep one more time, he was afraid of what he might do.

She made another little noise, and he turned back to her, reflexively. He had to leave, for both their sakes. But he couldn't seem to move his legs. Steeling his resolve, he set his jaw and gave her sleeping form once last glance. His heart was aching, he knew this was unrequited, it had to be.

                _Who could love a man as broken as he_.

Even if she _were_ dreaming of him, it didn't matter.

His entire life, he'd been _appropriate_ , always one to follow the rules. He knew he would follow them again here. Do the proper thing.

But for just one moment... he wanted to see what it was like... _to break the rules_.

Cullen bent down low, his face close enough to hers that he could see the light dusting of freckles on her nose, smell the sweet mint of her breath..... and he kissed her.

It was just a light pressing of his lips to hers, nothing more. His heart was about to burst.

                _They both had a job to do... and his head needed to be clear..._

_and whenever she was near him... it was fuzzy and the world seemed brighter... like when you'd had too much wine..._

_just a kiss... he wanted to deepen it... with all that he was..._

_he wanted to part her supple lips with his tongue and penetrate her the only way he could right now... but it might wake her_...

He lifted his lips from hers and his heart stopped beating...

her eyes were open, dreamy and unfocused.

She blinked lethargically and then they fluttered closed again.

He held his breath as he slowly backed away from her. Turning and opening the door as silently as possible. He closed it behind him and leaned against the entryway, his sigh escaping in a rush of air. Making sure he still had the report from earlier, he stood up and straightened his shoulders.

 _Maker's breath what was he doing_.


	5. Not My Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val Royeaux and meeting Sera

Cassandra led the way, confidently striding across the bridge that led into the city of Val Royeaux...

Beatrice had heard stories about it but had never thought to actually be visiting it herself. "The city still mourns." The Seeker said. Bells were ringing in the distance. A women dressed in Orlesian finery was walking along the road, upon spotting their party, she ran away screaming.

"Just a guess Seeker, but I think they all know who we are." Varric deadpanned.

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric." Cassandra replied dryly.

" _Children_... let's not fight." Tris gave Varric a wink.

Suddenly a woman was rushing up to them. Cassandra angled her body in front of Beatrice, as if to shield her. "My Lady Herald" the messenger said, breathless, before dropping to one knee in front of Tris.

"You're one of Leliana's people. What have you found?" Cassandra asked urgently.

"The Chantry mothers await you... _but_... so do a great many Templars." The woman spoke in a hurry.

Cassandra seemed surprised by this, "There are Templars here?" The messenger continued, "People seem to think the Templars will protect them from.... from the Inquisition. They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where the Templars intend to meet you." Her message delivered, the woman stood up. Cassandra had a look of determination set on her face, "Only one thing to do then..." and led them onward. They'd come too far to turn around now.

A huge crowd had gathers on the far side of the marketplace. A wooden dais had been constructed, several Chantry Mothers and a few Templars were standing on it. The multitude of onlookers seemed to part in front of them, and they made their way to the dais quickly.

A Mother was addressing the assembly, "Good people of Val Royeaux, HEAR ME! Together we mourn our Divine, her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery!" She was enraged now, as she angrily pointed at Beatrice. "You wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder NO MORE!"

The crowd all started talking at once. Then the Mother continued, "Behold the So-Called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell! We say this is a false prophet. A wicked mage sent to subvert the Maker's word!"

Beatrice was incised, her voice rising up so everyone could hear her, "and do you know _everything_ the Maker commands? Look up in the sky! I alone survived the Breach... and I alone can end it!"

Cassandra put her hand on Tris's shoulder, gently shaking her head, then spoke to the Mother and the crowd, "It's true! The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!"

The Mother would not back down, she cried out, "It is already too late" as she pointed to the group of Templars marching towards them. "The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this _Inquisition_ and the people will be safe once more."

Cassandra's eyes grew wide as the man leading the Templars walked past the shouting Mother, a soldier who was with them, sucker punched her in the back of the head, knocking her down. She screamed and the crowd started to panic. The man who was obviously in charge, clasped the shoulder of a Templar who looked as if he wanted to help the Mother, telling the man, "steel yourself, she is beneath us."

Beatrice didn't know what to say, and what had she promised Cullen, that she would _try_ and be careful. Well... _Shit_.

She stepped forward and shouted, "Not here for us then... I thought the Templars were going to _face the Inquisition_ and _save the people_."

The man scoffed, "As if there were any reason to."

Cassandra seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in and ran up to the man, "Lord Seeker Lucius, it's imperative that we speak with..." This Lord Seeker person cut Cassandra off, "you will not address me."

Cassandra was stunned, "L...Lord Seeker?"

The man angrily turned to face her, "creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's Prophet. You should be ashamed!" Then he directed his ire at the crowd, "You should ALL be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages!"

He pointed directly at Beatrice now and cried out, "You are the ones who have FAILED! You who'd leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear! If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine."

Tris was furious, "Templars, one of your own commands the Inquisition's forces. Do you have the courage to join us as he did?"

Lord Seeker Lucius started laughing at her, taunting her, "You're a _MAGE_! Your ties are worthless. They are all made traitors just by being in your company!"

The Templar who wanted to help the Mother found his voice, "But Lord Seeker, what if she really was sent by the Maker? What if..."

The Orlesian who punched the Mother lazily interrupted him, "You are called to a higher purpose! Do not question!"

Lucius began spouting propaganda again, " _I_ will make the Templar order a power that stands alone against the void. _We_ deserve recognition. _Independence_! You have shown me nothing.... and the Inquisition... less than nothing. Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! WE MARCH!"

And with that, the entire compliment of Templars left the city.

Varric shook his head, "Charming fellow, isn't he."

While Cassandra was still in disbelief, "Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone MAD!"

Tris was irritated "Well that went well... it doesn't look like we'll be getting the Templars to help us after all."

But Cassandra disagreed, "I wouldn't write them off so quickly. There must be those in the Order who see what he's become. Either way, we should return to Haven and inform the others."

As their group made to leave the city, an elf woman in Circle robes stepped out of the shadows to greet them. "If I might have a moment of your time." She politely started.

Cassandra was again surprised, "Grand Enchanter Fiona!" she exclaimed.

Solas thoughtfully added, "Leader of the mage rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"

Fiona addressed Beatrice directly, "I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes. If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps you should look among your fellow mages."

Tris was dubious, "and you came all the way to Val Royeaux on the off chance that I might be here... hmmm... well, now you've seen me."

Fiona narrowed her eyes but continued, "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe: Come meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both, after all. As a mage yourself, I should hope you would put more faith in your own people than you would a bunch of Templar thugs."

Beatrice bowed her head to the Grand Enchanter, "I would like to think so... yes."

Fiona smiled, "I do hope to see you there. Au Revoir, my Lady Herald." as she departed.

"Well, did that seem, a little too _convenient_ to anyone else?" Varric chuckled.

"Only a _little_ " Tris agreed.

Turning to leave Val Royeaux and heading for the camp that the Inquisition's soldiers had set up at the edge of the city, an arrow hit the dirt at Beatrice's feet. "There's a message attached." remarked Cassandra.

"Indeed, it would seem that someone wants us to go on a bit of a scavenger hunt." Beatrice said as she unrolled the red paper. Several hours later, the four of them were sneaking through a back alley in one of Val Royeaux's less respectable neighborhoods.

"What are we doing here Herald?" Solas said, as he scraped something unpleasant from the bottom of his foot. "How are we to trust that this wasn't just some elaborate ruse to get you alone in the dark."

Tris smirked, "Well if it was, it failed, I'm not alone now am I.... and who would cross _Cassandra_ in the dark?"

Varric snickered while the Lady Seeker rolled her eyes. But they all fell silent as voices could be heard nearby. Approaching with caution, Tris just managed to dodge a fire ball that came hurtling out of the darkness at her. Some Orlesian dandy in a ridiculous mask was apparently not expecting them, "Herald of Andraste! How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!"

"You're assuming I know who you are... _that's cute_." Tris cracked.

The dandy seemed offended, "You don't fool ME! I'm too important for this to be an accident! My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere!" He cried.

Tris looked to Varric, who shrugged. "Right..."

She wasn't sure why those notes instructed her to come here... could this fool have set this up? As she was about to leave, a struggle could be heard from a side alley. Suddenly a blonde elf was standing over a man, an arrow in the back of his head. She drew back her bow and jeered, "Just say WHAT!" as she aimed at the fool in the mask.

He was confused, "What is the...." The elf loosed her arrow and it shot straight through the man's throat. He dropped to the ground with a wet thud.

"Ewwww!" squealed the elf. "Squishy one, but you heard me, right? Just say... _what_." She giggle snorted, "Rich tits always try for more than they deserve."

The blonde woman bent down and pulled the arrow out of the dead man with a sickening noise. "Blah, Blah, Blah! Obey me! Arrow in my face!" She smiled and came over to where Tris was standing, "So, you followed the notes well enough. Glad to see you're... well actually... you're a bit plainer than I'd expected. Herald of Andraste and all. But it's all good, the important thing is: you _glow!_ "

Tris was really confused now, "Sure, why not... I _glow_. What exactly is going on?"

The blonde elf laughed, "No idea, I don't know this idiot from manners. My people just said the Inquisition should look at him."

"Your... people? You mean elves?" Tris was still trying to make heads or tails of this.

"No... people people! The name's Sera, this is cover, get around it. You know, for the reinforcements. But don't worry, someone tipped me their equipment shed. _They've got no breeches!_ " She was giggling again.

All of a sudden, the alleyway was flooded with over a dozen mercenaries.

 _With no breeches_.

Sera was laughing maniacally as she shot arrows at the men attacking them. "Why didn't you TAKE THEIR WEAPONS!" Beatrice shouted as she dove behind cover. Cassandra threw herself in the path of the two men coming at Tris, knocking them back with ease. Solas placed a barrier over her as she rolled into a crouched position and sent out an immolation spell.

The archers that were bottlenecked in the back alley all screamed at once as they burned. Varric was raining bolts down as Sera jumped and skipped around the courtyard, shooting anything that moved. The battle was over quickly, Cassandra dispatching the last of the hired blades with one thrust of her sword.

Sera laughed again, "Friends really came through with that tip. No Breeches!!! So... Herald of Andraste. You're a strange one. I'd like to join."

Tris sighed, "Could we take a few moments for sense to reassert itself? Who are you people?"

Sera just grinned at her, "I'M not PEOPLE. But I get what you want. It's like this. I sent you notes to find stuff, stuff hidden by my friends. The Friends of Red Jenny. That's ME. Well I'm ONE. It's just a name, yeah? It lets little people, _FRIENDS_ , be part of something while they stick it to some nobles they hate. So here, in your face, I'm Sera. _The Friends of Red Jenny_ are sort of out there. I used them to help you. Plus arrows."

Beatrice looked to Cassandra, who appeared more confused that she was. But the Inquisition did need people, "All right Sera, I can use you and your _friends_."

The blonde elf was overjoyed. "YES!" She shouted, "Get in good before you're too big to like. That'll keep your breeches where they should be... Anyway, Haven. See you there Herald. This will be _grand_!"

"Might as well see what the famous markets of Val Royeaux have to offer" brightened Tris the next morning.

"Ugggh" Cassandra groaned "Must we?"

Tris smiled at the Seeker, "It would be a waste to not even look, they might have something we can use, _you never know_."

Beatrice was browsing the wares of a stall when the shopkeeper whispered to her, "Herald, I would like to offer my services. Haven will need direct supply lines to provide goods and food to the Inquisition. I would be happy to help."

"Well, that sounds like quite the opportunity, _who could say no_." Tris winked at Cassandra. "Good thing we came to the market today."

Another agent secured, Beatrice was feeling quite happy as she meandered through the city. Some of the merchants had very expensive and not very useful things for sale.

"Welcome to Orlais." Varric droned. She couldn't help but laugh.

As they were strolling along the main thoroughfare, Tris has the feeling she was being watched. Out of the corner of her eyes, she kept seeing faces ducking behind cover. Finally, she had had enough. Walking over to the outdoor cafe, she approached a man who would not make eye contact with her.

Only when she was directly in front of him, did he eventually give her a sheepish grin. "My Lady Herald. Forgive this subterfuge. We are under orders from Commander Cullen to watch you, to keep you safe. But he did not want you to know, he thought it would be better this way." Tris's heart fluttered at the news.

"So I suppose the Commander thought _I_ would not be sufficient protection." Cassandra muttered.

"No my Lady Seeker. The Commander simply wanted his own people in the city if something, _drastic_ , needed to be done."

Cassandra's eye opened wide, "What was he thinking would happen, that we'd all be arrested and you would have to break us out of prison?" She was only half jesting. The soldier just laughed nervously. "If it came to that, yes. Our orders were to bring back the Herald at all costs."

"Hmmm." Cassandra murmured. "Send a Raven then. Let him know that no harm has come to... _any of us_. And we shall be returning to Haven as soon as possible."


	6. Never Be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is nervous for the Herald and tries to keep the demons in his dreams at bay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried writing this from Cullen's POV and I was head canoning like a mad women all through out this chapter... but I am really happy with how it turned out...

The journey to Val Royueax took about two weeks, so Commander Cullen wasn't expecting to hear any news for quite some time. Yet everyday he found himself wandering past Leliana's tent, pretending not to look for news or incoming ravens.

Eight days after the Herald and her entourage departed Haven, Cullen was standing outside of the Chantry, trying to listen in on what was being discussed by Leliana and one of her agents. But sister Nightingale was no fool. With a smirk, she approached him, "You know, you could _simply_ ask me, instead of all this sneaking around. You're not very good at it."

Cullen rubbed his neck, "I... I Don't know what you mean." Leliana gave him a scathing look, "I have no news regarding the Herald. They have not yet arrived in Val Royeaux. I will inform you when there is word, but until then, please stop _skulking_ about, it is most _unbecoming_."

"I wasn't _skulking_ ," Cullen grumped, heading back to the practice yard, maybe putting the recruits through their paces would help keep his mind off of the situation, off of _her_. He had not spoken to her since _that night_. Then the morning they left for Orlais, he watched as she stood at the gates with the others, watched as she searched the crowd of soldiers, no doubt looking for him.

He felt like such a coward. He could not face her after what he had done. A lifetime of following the rules and he had broken her trust in one moment of weakness. Hours after they had departed, a messenger approached him as he was entering the Chantry. "Ser... I was to deliver this note to you." She had handed him a folded page of torn parchment, the words were hastily written in _her_ flowing script.

> Commaner... _Cullen_... I had hoped you would see us off. The journey will be a long one and none of us knows what we'll find in Val Royeaux. Cassandra says we shouldn't expect to be back for at least a month. I had _hoped_.... to say good-bye... _in person_. Try not to let the mages burn down Haven while I'm away. I _am_ kidding you know. I'm sure you'll be able to put out the fires with minimal effort. I look forward to speaking with you upon my return. _Stay safe_. I'm not sure why I'm telling you that... you're going to be at our headquarters... surrounded by soldiers... I'm the one going off to face... Maker only knows. I just... I worry about you... Andraste preserve us both.... _Tris_.

Cullen clutched her note tightly in his hand. He closed his eyes as the spring breeze carried the scent of pine and wood smoke across the field. The clashing of swords and the roar of the training men drowned out all other sounds.

He must have read her message a thousand times in the week she had been gone.

 _I worry about you_... Cullen's heart ached to know she was alright.

The soldiers he had sent to watch her in secret had not yet reached the city. They were good men, and had orders to send ravens daily. He would know if something were amiss.

Tucking the letter into his shirt, he turned and barked an order to a Templar. "The men need to face a real challenge. I want our ten best men to start sparing with great weapons, battle axes or two handed swords. The rest of the recruits _NEED_ to see what they're up against. Our enemies will give _NO QUARTER!_ "

Shaking his head, he walked back towards the city gate. He had mountains of paperwork to sift through. Reports on supply lines and patrol movements. Sighing heavily he looked to the sky, the Breach was swirling with a terrible magic high above them all.

Beatrice.... _Tris_...

she was the only one who could close it. He would ensure her safety, no matter the cost. The world would be lost to demons and monsters if they failed. He said her name to himself quietly, " _Beatrice_." _Such a lovely name_. Why did he not use it more.

Smiling as he entered the cabin he was using as both office and living quarters, he promised himself he would call her by name more often.

His breath caught as he thought of how she had signed her letter... _Tris._

Could he be so bold as to call her that. He had heard no one address her in such a familiar manner, what right did he have. Cullen pulled the well worn parchment from the safekeeping of his shirt pocket. Reading it again.... he laughed at how she jested with him. Knowing how serious the situation was, how serious _HE_ was. She had been trying to make him smile, he was sure of it. His lips quirked up in a grin. Folding the letter, he tucked it away again, this would not be the last time he'd read it today.

A knock on his door roused him from the report he'd been pouring over.

"Yes, what is it?" He grumbled.

"Commander Cullen Ser, Lady Montilyet insisted that you eat something."

With a loud sigh, Cullen stood up. Opening the door, he found a servant holding a covered dish and a bottle of wine.

"Yes, that was.. very considerate of her to think of me."

He motioned for the man to set the food down. Bowing slightly, the servant did as instructed and backed out slowly. Shaking his head, Cullen lifted the lid off of the dish, the smell of cooked potatoes and meat filled his nose. His stomach growled in response.

Perhaps he _was_ hungry.

Uncorking the wine, he sat back down to finish reading his report, taking a bite of food every now and then.

The candles were burnt down to stumps when he looked up again. The sky outside was dark, _how late was it_. Cullen stretched and opened his door. Glancing over to the unlit windows of the cottage directly to his right, he unconsciously put his hand to his heart, feeling her letter there, he exhaled.

Before _she_ had come to Haven, he had been staying in a tent with the rest of his men, despite Leliana's insistence that he join them in the Chantry, he had liked it. A good commander knew his men, ate with them, slept with them, fought with them. You didn't earn their trust and respect by hiding in the Chantry while they sacrificed their own comfort in the barracks.

Yet after the assault on the Breach, when Beatrice had succeeded in closing the largest of the rifts, he had requested to be moved to his current lodgings. He knew that she was only a few feet away, but somehow he needed to be nearer to her.

Those three days when the healers weren't sure if she would live or die, Cullen had sat with her as often as he could. He wasn't even sure why, he was inexplicably drawn to her by some unknown force. Cassandra thought him wary of possession, that he was concerned that a demon had taken hold of her. The thought had crossed his mind, but somehow he knew that wasn't the case, and so he sat by her bedside, watching her sleep.

What must the healers have thought of him, acting like a worried mother hen, over someone he barely knew.

He touched the letter at his chest again and smiled.

Cullen methodically removed his armor, carefully hanging it on the stand in the corner of his room. He changed into a pair of ram skin breeches and a soft cotton shirt. His boots were supple leather, nothing like the heavy plate he wore on the battlefield.

Filling a basin with water, he washed his face and hands. Looking at his reflection in the cracked glass hanging on the wall, he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Turning to the side, he examined the thin scar on his lip, a memento of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall.

Sometimes he could still feel the sizzle of electricity from the pride demon's whip. It was days after the Champion had defeated Meredith and fled the city _with that terrorist Anders_. As Knight-Captain, it was his responsibility to restore order, he had been in High Town when a group of rebel mages ambushed their patrol.

They turned to blood magic in their desperation and a massive pride demon answered the call.

Cullen had lost two good Templars in that fight. He remembered seeing the beast swing a moment too late, lifting his shield over his head to block the attack, he was not covering enough of his face. White hot pain tore through him.

Rubbing his eyes he shook off the memory. The man in the glass looked tired, war weary and so much older than the eager young Templar that he had been once upon a time. It'd been over ten years since the blight... since the broken Circle in Ferelden. Yet he would be forever haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Cullen knew he should at least try to sleep, but the nightmares were always lurking, waiting for him in the shadows. Picking up a candle and one of the thicker field reports, he lay back on his bed.

He would try and keep the monsters at bay for as long as he could.

* * *

 

Screams echoed through the halls of the tower.

Blood and bodies littered its passageways.

Corpses were piled to the ceiling in every room.

Blood magic had wrought this destruction. Demons prowled the corridors, there was nowhere safe to hide. He was the only one left. His friends were all dead. Their broken and bloodied bodies used as perverse adornments, covering the walls of the once proud Circle he called home.

In a cage of magic he waited. Every noise causing him to shake in fear.

The visions were the worst of it.

He had been trained to endure pain, to push the agony deep down inside himself and let the Maker steel his soul for whatever was to come next. But how long could a man suffer the way he had suffered, without it breaking him.

The demons would whisper in his head, offering pleasure or release.

He had lasted longer than any of them. But he could feel his mind cracking under the pressure, his resolve slipping.

Late at night, she would come to him, promising him a life he never dared dream of. She would speak softly, with honeyed words and an angels face. He knew it was wrong to feel anything for a mage, it was his duty to protect the world from magic, not fall victim to its charms.

And so he would resist, he would tell her to leave him. He would close his eyes tight and recite the Chant of Light.   

_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_

_I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm._

_I shall endure._

_What you have created, no one can tear asunder._

Night after night, he would be tempted. His mind was weak and his body was failing him, yet somehow he found the strength to fight. But the nightmare always ended the same way. He would endure the torture as long as he could. Then, she would step through the barrier of his magical prison and her beautiful face would smile as her demons claws tore out his still beating heart.

Cullen knew it was coming, the nightmare had a hold of him now. He knelt in prayer inside his cell, frantically mumbling to himself. Rocking his body back and forth, his faith the only shield he had left.

_The Light shall lead her safely_

_Through the paths of this world, and into the next._

_For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water._

_As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,_

_She should see fire and go towards Light._

_The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,_

_And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker_

_Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword._

He heard the demon approaching.

_O Maker, hear my cry:_

_Guide me through the blackest nights_

_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked_

_Make me to rest in the warmest places._

Cullen was ready for death. He had relieved this moment countless times before. The fiend would eviscerate him and he would die. The taunting sneer on the face of the woman he once thought he could love, would be the last thing he would see before the crippling fear and darkness of the abyss took him.

But something was different, she should have already stepped through the magic barricade that confined him. He dared to look up and was blinded by a brilliant white light. Shading his eyes he saw only a silhouette standing in the doorway. In a blur, she moved like a tempest of shadow and flame, the glowing mark on her hand opening a rift that pulled the demon screaming back into the fade.

 _Andraste_ he thought... _come to take me to the Maker's side_.

Cullen couldn't look away, he saw when she placed her staff on the wall of his prison, fire was dancing in her hand, slowly burning away the foul magic. He looked up at his savior and saw Beatrice standing in front of him.

Her hair was a wild tangle of scarlet fire, her eyes blazed like embers, she was fierce and beautiful, a mage of extraordinary power. He must have appeared frightened, but he was never happier to see anyone in his entire life. She softened her expression as she offered her hand. Grasping her wrist, he let her help him up. Suddenly he wasn't weak or scared anymore.

This place was a memory, a phantom that stalked his mind, punishing him forever more. But somehow tonight the nightmare was different, in all the years he'd been plagued by it, the one constant was _it never changed_. His punishment was to relive the torture and the pain in an endless loop, every night.

Yet here he was, staring at _her_ in this terrible place. Could it be because he had been thinking about her before he fell asleep, reading and rereading her letter.

He knew this was a dream, _he always knew,_ the lyrium gave him the clarity of mind that allowed him to navigate dreams in a way that most people couldn't comprehend.

The nightmares would likely return, but right now, _she_ was all that mattered.

Beatrice smiled and took his hand, leading him through a doorway. Suddenly they weren't in the Circle any longer. They were in Haven, walking in the snow. She was leading him to her door. He stopped, her slender fingers slipping out of his hand.

Beatrice turned around, no longer the fiery mage who had rescued him, but _his_ Tris... Bottle green eyes fringed in dark lashes, auburn hair, loose and blowing in the gentle wind. Her crimson lips smiling just for him. Tris quirked her head to the side and took a step towards him.

"How... _is this happening_ " he wondered aloud.

She laughed, like little silver bells, breaking the silence of the falling snow. She was right in front of him again, her face tilted up to look into his own. Snowflakes were in her hair and clinging to her eyelashes.

He tenderly brushed her cheek with his hand, " _How_ are you doing this?"

Beatrice just smiled and stood on the tips of her toes, gently pressing her lips to his. His arms went around her as he pulled her into his body. She yielded to him as he kissed her again. Holding her close, he looked into her eyes, " _Beatrice_...."

She pressed her forehead to his, their noses lighting touching. " _How...._ "

" _I'm_ not doing this Cullen... _you are_." He drew back, still holding her, not wanting to let her go.

Her emerald eyes sparkled, " _You always had the power to save yourself... you were just waiting for something worth saving yourself for_."

He closed his eyes and nuzzled her neck. She smelled like orange blossoms and springtime. He breathed her in, not caring that this wasn't real. She stepped out of his embrace, pulling him along with her. Smiling coyly she opened the door.

He touched her face lightly, his fingers brushing her cheek and her lips. His hand slid into her hair and he brought her to his mouth. Kissing her tenderly, _he was afraid of waking up_.

She was slowly undoing the straps of his breastplate, as they continued to kiss and caress each other. Stepping out of his heavy Templar armor, she wound her arms around his neck. He held her tightly and then lifted her off the ground. Her laughter was like a balm to his soul, her breath tickling his ear. He set her down again and she was smiling at him lovingly.

He began undoing the laces of her dress little by little. He had bent down on one knee and unbuckled her soft leather boots, his hand slid up her thigh. He looked up at her face. Haloed in the light from the night sky, she was so beautiful, her skin pale in the moonlight.

Tris reached down and stroked his cheek, her thumb tracing his scar affectionately. He stood up and slid his hands over her shoulders, causing her dress to fall in a heap at her feet. She trembled and he held her face in his hands. She quickly had the ties to his shirt undone and he pulled it over his head with haste, His boots came off next and then he roughly undid the lacing of his breeches.

Cullen pulled her to him, his strong hands moving down her naked back. They tumbled onto the bed, their bodies crushing together.

He rolled on top of her, one hand in her hair, the other sliding down her side. Her skin was like hot silk.

She kissed him and he surrendered to her mouth. His body parted her legs and she opened to him. Caressing her face, he tenderly kissed her again and again. He ran his hand up her shoulder and her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair. She arched her back and tipped her chin up. Cullen lifted himself over her, his hips settling into hers, and he entered her slowly.

Tris fluttered her eye lids and her lips parted in a soft sigh.

He heard himself groan. His entire body shuddered as she lightly raked her fingers down his back.

His shoulders flexed and a shiver went up his spine. Both of them were breathing hotly as he moved in long smooth strokes.

Deliberately slowing his pace, his body ached for release. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp gingerly. He nuzzled her neck, leaving a trail of delicate kisses along her jaw line. His thrusts were steadily increasing in pace.

Tris was gently moaning, her hot breath on his cheek only making him more aroused. He kissed her ear, his own panting breath stoking her passion in turn. He could feel himself losing control, he wanted to stay in her arms forever, even if this _was_ just a dream.

Her body began to tremble as her need consumed her.

She threw her arms out, gripping the bed sheets, her lips were at his ear, " _Cullen_...."

He began working his hips faster now, he wanted to finish them together. He kissed her neck as she moaned softly into his ear.

Cullen heard himself cry out a few moments after she did. Collapsing onto her shoulder, they lay there, panting as one. He lifted up his face and looked deeply into her green eyes, she looked drowsy and sated.

 _like the real Tris had... that night_...

Cullen closed his eyes and kissed her tenderly.

_He knew this was a dream... and that the nightmares would probably return... but he also knew that they couldn't hurt him anymore..._

_she had shown him a path out of the pain and the darkness... she had given him a reason to save himself..._

_he wasn't sure exactly how she felt about him... but every fiber of his being was telling him that she was the one..._

_her love was worth fighting for... and despite the Breach and the war... and everything else that was going on..._

_he would find some way to tell her..._

Safe and warm in her arms, Cullen slept.

No screams of his dying friends pierced the silence, no demons whispered to him in the shadows, no fear tore at his heart. He snuggled her closer to him, his arms winding around her waist, their bodies nestled together under the soft blanket.

Her hair was in his face and he inhaled her scent greedily, smiling in his dreams. He opened his eyes to bright sunlight streaming in through the window, the memory of last night etched into his mind. Getting out of bed, he walked to the looking glass.

The man staring back at him was smiling.


	7. Silence is Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heading back to Haven after the encounter with the Templars in Val Royeaux, Tris remembers the party where she met Lady Vivienne. When they return to meet with the advisers, Commander Cullen is distant and protective of the Herald.

"Alright," Tris said, panting and clutching the stitch in her side, "After we get back to Haven... _And_ after we brief the advisors on what happened... _And then_ , after we've had a chance to maybe rest for a day or two... _And definitely_ after I've had a _bath_... Our first priority must be to get some _bloody horses_... because I am. _NOT_. _Walking_. _To_. Val Royeaux. On. Foot. _AGAIN_!"

Varric was howling with laughter.

" _It's not funny_!" she shot him a scathing look. "We've been walking for the better part of 3 weeks! We didn't even stay in Orlais for 72 hours... C _assandra_!"

The Lady Seeker gave Tris a look of mock indignation, "I don't see how this is my fault, Herald. We simply had concluded our business and needed to return."

"Uuuuuuugh" Beatrice groaned "next time. _HORSES_."

Cassandra was pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh, "We shall be in Haven before nightfall Beatrice, then I'm sure you will feel better."

Tris pointed directly at Cassandra and deadpanned " _Horses_. I mean it." Then marched on, still holding her side.

Varric's snickering following her down the road.

* * *

 

They would have left Val Royeaux even sooner if Cassandra had gotten her way, but the morning after their little adventure with Sera, a messenger had delivered a very formal invitation to Beatrice at camp.

"It's to a party thrown by a First Enchanter Vivienne." She said reading the fancy handwriting. "It's tonight, just north of the capitol."

Cassandra came over and narrowed her eyes, "But we are leaving today. Why would a First Enchanter want to see an agent of the Inquisition."

Tris laughed, turning the shiny paper over in her hands, "you _know_... she didn't say. Why don't we accept the invite, and I can ask her."

Solas was thoughtful, "Perhaps she wishes to pledge the Circles mages to the Inquisition. Or offer assistance in some other way."

"More likely she's just another curious noble who wants to brag about having the Herald of Andraste at her party." Varric disparaged.

"Absolutely not." Cassandra insisted. "We must return to Haven and inform the others of what has happened here."

Tris did not want to complain, but they'd only just arrived in Val Royeaux, "It would be rude not to go... plus this Vivienne might be a useful ally. How can we _NOT_ go?"

Cassandra grumbled something incoherent about wine and cheese before she stalked away. "That's a yes then?" Beatrice called after her.

The invitation was only for the Herald, and while Varric had offered to stay in camp and teach Solas how to play Diamond Back, Cassandra could not be persuaded to remain behind. "What if you need me?" She insisted.

"At a fancy Orlesian party?" Tris laughed. "It's not a trap... at least I'm pretty sure it's not a trap."

The Lady Seeker gave her a murderous look, "Well I _will_ accompany you regardless. And we shall see if it _IS_ or _ISN'T_ a trap. I will wait outside if I must, but I promised" she looked nervous suddenly " _I promised_.... everyone... that I would... protect _you_."

Shaking her head, Tris sighed. "Suit yourself, I'll try and smuggle you out something nice to eat." A loud _humph_ was her only answer as she climbed the marble steps into the palace.

A finely dressed servant reading from a scroll announced her as she entered. "Lady Beatrice Trevelyan, of Ostwick. Representing the Inquisition." Tris squared her shoulders and entered the crowded room. All eyes were on her, noble lords and ladies dressed in silks and rich velvets. She wished she had something nicer on than the dusty enchanter coat she had been wearing for the past two weeks.

A man in a silly mask stepped up to her and bowed, "What a pleasure to meet you My Lady. Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome."

 _Ah_ , thought Tris, _maybe this Vivienne did just want her here to increase her own social standing_.

"So you must be a guest of Madam de Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?" Beatrice was at a loss. "I'm not familiar with... that name. I was invited here buy First Enchanter Vivienne." The man made a face, "Madame de Fer... is a nickname the court has given Lady Vivienne."

The noble woman with him brightened, "My Lady Herald, are you here on business? I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true." Beatrice smiled wickedly at that. Josephine was going to kill her for this. "Everything you've heard? Completely true." The noble woman squealed with delight, "This just gets better and better! The Inquisition should attend more of these parties!"

A rude noise caught Tris's attention.

A nobleman was descending a staircase and speaking loudly to a crowd who was largely trying to ignore him. "The Inquisition?" he scowled, "What a load of pig shit! Washed-up sisters and crazed seekers? No one can take them seriously." Beatrice seemed to be the only one paying him any attention.

He was gesturing wildly as he circled her, shouting "Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power."

She had had enough, "The Inquisition is working to restore peace and order to Thedas." The disgruntled nobleman was in her face now, he hissed "Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army! We know what your _Inquisition_ truly is." The man jabbed Beatrice in the chest with his finger, "If you were a woman of honor, you'd step outside and answer the charges." Tris was about to tell the man off when the hair on the back of her neck stood up and she detected the all too familiar smell of magic.

The angry man was frozen in place and a sugary sweet laugh floated through the air.

"My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in my house... to MY guests." An elegant woman gracefully descended the stairs, she commanded the attention of everyone at the party. "You know such rudeness is.... _intolerable_." Her tone was light hearted but there was no mistaking the threat behind her words. She slinked her way towards the unfortunate man, he was like a fly caught in a spiders web.

"Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon." Beatrice's eyes widened in surprise... So this was the First Enchanter.

"You should." She droned, "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?" Vivienne then turned to Tris, "My Lady, you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

Beatrice sighed, "I don't really care what you do with him. His words do not bother me." Vivienne turned back to the Marquis and snapped her fingers, he dropped to his knees coughing as the spell dissipated. The First Enchanter wielded her words like a mighty sword, eviscerating the man's dignity and pride, he was thoroughly cowed as she sent him away with a wave of her hand.

Tris was mildly impressed. Lady Vivienne wanted to join the inquisition, she made no secret of that. She saw the Chantry in shambles and knew that helping to restore order would be of benefit to everyone. Vivienne felt that as the leader of the last loyal mages in Thedas, it was her duty to offer her assistance to their cause.

Despite her arrogance, Beatrice felt that this would indeed strengthen the Inquisition and gladly accepted the First Enchanter's offer. Vivienne would set her affairs in order and be a few days behind their party, meeting them in Haven as soon as possible.

* * *

 

As Beatrice thought back to that night in Orlais, she could see the smoke from the village gently rising over the treetops. Cassandra appeared at her side, "You are doing well. I just wanted to tell you. This cannot be easy, and I know you were not recruited under the... most ideal conditions."

Tris just laughed, "Well it's not like I had much of a choice." She waved the mark on her hand at the seeker. Cassandra laughed quietly, "Yes, well, I just wanted to express my admiration for how you've handled things thus far. I know it has been difficult."

"Honestly, it's been fine Cassandra. I have to believe that... _all this_... happened for a reason." The seeker gave Tris an encouraging squeeze of her shoulder, then shouted orders for a messenger to run ahead and summon the advisors to the Chantry.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as they walked into the city. People were shouting thanks to the Maker and praising Andraste's name for their Heralds safe return. Tris was a bit uncomfortable with all this attention. The bells from the Chantry had started to ring out as the people of Haven lined the streets to see them pass.

"Better get used to this kiddo." Varric smirked. Tris just sighed heavily and tried to smile at all the people who had come out to greet her. Solas had disappeared again and Varric made a beeline for the tavern, leaving Cassandra and Beatrice to break the news of the Templar's abandonment to everyone else.

They walked into the Chantry as the late afternoon sun sent long shadows trailing across the snow. Josephine, Cullen and Leliana did not even wait for them to enter the war room, they were pacing back and forth in the foyer. "It's good you've returned, we heard about your _encounter_ with the Templars and the Lord Seeker." Josie began.

Cassandra seemed surprised, "You _heard_?" Apparently this information was not included with the raven she had sent before they departed Val Royeaux.

Leliana smiled, "Of course. I have many agents in the city, they sent word immediately." Cullen's face briefly flashed anger at Leliana, but Tris couldn't understand why.

The Commander crossed his arms defensively. Beatrice noticed that he did that often, whenever something upset him or he was dealing with a topic that made him uncomfortable. Cullen faced Cassandra and dryly intoned, "It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their _senses_ as well as the capitol."

Tris shrugged, "At least we know how to approach both the mages and Templars now."

"Do we?" Cassandra disagreed. "Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember."

Leliana nodded her head, "True. He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been... very odd."

Cullen was concerned, "We _must_ look into it. I'm certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker."

Josie offered another solution, "Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead."

Cullen bristled, "You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse."

Tris tried to calm everyone down, "We shall have to consider all of our options carefully. But more information is needed before making any decisions."

"I still say the mages are the wrong choice." Cullen insisted. Cassandra was in no mood to argue, "Commander, the mages have power, and we _need_ considerable power to close the Breach." He just waved her off, "I just think...." Tris interrupted him gently "It doesn't help us, squabbling like hens. Nothing is set in stone. What harm can come from seeing what the mages want? But I am not committing to anything until we have more information."

The advisors nodded and went their separate ways. Leaving Beatrice standing alone in the Chantry with Commander Cullen.

He stood near the door, his body angled away from her, rubbing his neck. "I see Haven is still standing." she said with a grin.

"W... _what_?" He looked at her, confused.

"The _mages_ , you managed to keep them from burning down the village. Well done Commander." She gave him a mock salute.

He smiled meekly in understanding. " _Yes_.... Well. I hope your journey was... _pleasant_?"

He wasn't even looking at her.

She sighed, "Long and exhausting, but I suppose it wasn't _unpleasant_. Varric tells the best stories and..."

She narrowed her eyes at him, " _Cassandra and Solas have taken up juggling_."

Cullen wasn't even listening. "Good, I'm glad."

Tris moved closer to him, she was standing directly in front of him, there was no way he couldn't make eye contact now.

" _Commander_ " She began, "Is everything alright? You seem a bit... _distracted_." She could tell when his breathing became erratic, something was making him anxious. _Was it her_? "I should let you get back to your duties."

She was two steps outside of the Chantry when she heard him call her back. "Herald... _Beatrice_... wait."

She turned and he was standing next to her in the golden light of the late afternoon sun, his amber eyes practically glowed. He bowed his head and spoke in a hushed whisper, "I'm sorry, I _have_ been distracted. I did not mean to... to offend."

Tris smiled at him, cocking her head to the side. "Did the men you sent to watch after me not send reports as frequently as you'd like?"

His face went pale, "You... you knew about that?"

Smiling brighter she went on, "I thought it was _sweet_... but our Lady Seeker ordered them to send one raven and no more. She was... a bit insulted in your lack of faith in her."

Cullen knitted his brows together in frustration, "Lack... of faith... in her. No... that was not my intention. I was..." His eyes burned into hers "I was simply concerned for _your_ safety." Cullen continued, "I only wanted to have people in place, in case of the _unthinkable_. If the Templars had attacked or tried to imprison you." He shook his head, his jaw set, " _I will not allow it_."


	8. Paranoid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall, and Dorian and Tevinter Cults... oh my! Cassandra and Beatrice rush back to Haven to alert the Inquisition of this strange Venatori threat. Meanwhile Cullen has been seeing a new face in his nightmares, and the realization of what that means to him leaves the Commander unsure and excited at the same time.

They hadn't rested in Haven as long as Tris had wanted, with Cassandra goading her into riding out only a day after their return because _the Hinterlands was still under duress and the horse master might be at risk_.

She was never going to live down her rant about getting mounts for the Inquisition. But horse master Dennet was making them jump through so many hoops. They'd gone back and forth to Haven twice already with requests for the Inquisition. But after two weeks of nothing but an endless battle against bandits and demons, the Hinterlands were finally safe. Well... _safer_. But watching the soldiers ride off with all those mounts, Beatrice couldn't help a smile and to feel a sense of accomplishment. This was going to be a good day.

"Leliana's agent says we'll find him up by the lake." Cassandra was shouting to her. The roar from the waterfall was deafening. "A Grey Warden..." Solas seemed less than enthusiastic. "Is this really necessary Seeker?" "Josephine thinks that it could be beneficial, especially with all the Warden's disappearing. It could be connected to the Breach." She replied with an air of finality. The elf grumbled and turned away. They found the Warden with a group of farm boys. He was attempting to teach them how to defend themselves against an attack. It was not going very well.

"No hold your shield UP. Like THIS!" He shouted. "Warden Blackwall?"Beatrice inquired. The bear of a man stood up straight and looked her up and down. "Who wants to know?" he eyed her suspiciously. "We're with the Inquisition..." she started when suddenly a group of bandits appeared from the edge of the forest. Blackwall shouted at the farm boys to charge. Not wanting this to be a total massacre, Tris and Cassandra jumped to action. Solas cast a barrier on the inexperienced boys, while Varric laid down suppressing fire from his cross bow. The battle was over almost before it had started. Blackwall thanked them for their assistance and then released the boys from whatever conscription he held over them. Turning to Tris, he introduced himself.

"So... Wardens are missing.... know anything about that?" She didn't have time to beat around the bush.

"Warden's are... _missing_?" Blackwall seemed shaken by the news.

Beatrice sighed "I suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to know what was going on... no secret Warden garden party in the Anderfells or something?" "I am usually on my own... recruiting." Blackwall began to explain. She lifted a hand to stop him "It's alright, I was just hoping... _nothing is ever easy is it?_ " "I don't suppose so My Lady." He bowed.

Cassandra interrupted, "Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition would like to ask for your assistance, in whatever capacity you are able to give." He looked thoughtful, stroking his beard. "Join the Inquisition?" Cassandra added, "We are trying to restore order, a Grey Warden could prove invaluable in this regard." Blackwall seemed to decide immediately, "A worthy cause. You can consider me an ally." "Just like that" Tris laughed. "Well, I... er... I think whatever happened in the sky is obviously as big a threat as any blight, and since we're currently between those, I can think of no other cause more worthy of my time."

Cassandra seemed happy enough with his answer, "Please report to Commander Cullen in Haven then, welcome to the Inquisition."

At camp that night, Solas seemed lost in thought. Varric was playing wicked grace with some of the soliders, while Cassandra was sharpening her blade. The elf came and sat next to Tris by the fire.

"You seem worried" she said quietly. "I _am_ worried. I am concerned with how we are to seal the Breach. Cassandra is right to think that we will need substantial power to do so. And I am afraid that a distrust of mages will lead us down the wrong path." Solas reflected.

Beatrice stared into the flames, "You're thinking Cullen will insist we work with the Templars."

Nodding the elf added, "His mistrust of the rebel mages leaves him blind to the fact that while adept at dispelling magic, the Templars do not possess the necessary power we will need. Allying with them would be folly." Beatrice thought for a few moments, the fire crackled and popped as she turned things over in her mind. She turned and faced Solas abruptly, a spark in her green eyes, "Then we don't ask his permission. We're here now. Tomorrow morning, let's go to the village and see what Grand Enchanter Fiona wants."

Solas returned her enthusiasm with a sly grin. "Yes... to Redcliffe."

A massive rift with rage and envy demons flooding out was what greeted them at the gates to the village. "Get those refugees away from here!" Shouted Tris. Cassandra dove into the fray, bashing a demon into the dust with her shield, while stabbing at another flanking her.

Tris fade walked to the center of the rift, attempting to disrupt it, giving Solas and Varric time to get those poor people to safety. The minute she made that fragile connection, the heads of all the demons turned to her, as if pulled by a string. She managed to break the link before they reached her, but she felt the heat of their attack singe her coat as she ran.

Looking back, she noticed that time was moving strangely. Cassandra seemed to float in midair as she leapt to attack a monster from behind. And a rage demon seemed to be moving at a frantic pace as it gave chase to Solas. She couldn't make sense of it right now, distracted, an envy demon knocked her down, landing on her back, she had a moment of disorientation before she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its claws. Cassandra came barreling out of nowhere, impaling the beast on her sword, its dying scream left a ringing in her ears. Finally the rift was closed.

A guard from the Inquisition approached them, limping and clutching their side. "Redcliffe is under the control of a Magister from Tevinter. He kicked everyone out of the city who wasn't touched by magic. I don't know what's going on, but the Grand Enchanter is no longer in charge of the mages. Good luck your worship." She saluted and continued out the gates.

"Well... that's not good." Varric snarked. Cassandra just glared at him as they made their way into the village.

"There's the tavern" Solas pointed, "Shall we see what this Fiona wants?" The bar was loud and smoky. A bard was singing sweetly in the corner. The chatter of countless people seemed to thicken the very air. They found Fiona and thanked her for the invitation. She did not know what they were talking about.

"So... that woman who looked and sounded exactly like you in Val Royeaux... _not you?_ "

Fiona looked despondent, "This sounds like some foul magic...." But before she could continue, the tavern fell silent. A man appeared and introduced himself as Magister Gereon Alexius, and his son Felix. "I speak for the mages now" he purred menacingly.

"You've allied with Tevinter?" Cassandra was shocked.

"The Imperium offers these poor souls the chance at freedom... something that they can get nowhere else." He continued. "Now... what is it that the Inquisition requires of them."

"Are we to have no say in our own fates!" Fiona burst out. Alexius gave her a reproachful glance, "My dear Fiona, you trusted me to save you, now trust me to act in your best interest." As they sat down to negotiate, Felix stumbled, collapsing into Tris's arms. Alexius immediately rushed to his sons side, "We will have to conduct these talks at a later date, Fiona, I have need of you in the castle."

After they had left, Beatrice looked down at the note that had been passed to her. "Meet me in the chantry, you are in danger."

"No shit!" Varrice said under his breath.

"This place looks all but abandoned" Cassandra remarked, as they neared the Chantry.

"I don't suppose a Tevinter Magister would allow his charges to worship in the Chantry, would he?" Tris thought out loud.

Entering the darkened building, a rift opened up right before their very eyes. "Ah you're finally here, now would you care to help me close this, or would you prefer to watch me singlehandedly save the day?" A mage was waiting inside, obviously for them. The party hesitated only for a moment before springing into action.

As they fought the demons, Tris noticed that time was behaving strangely again. When the final demon fell, and she had closed the rift, the strange man turned to her, "Fascinating! How does that work, exactly?

Tris was at a loss for words. The man laughed unexpectedly, "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle you fingers and boom! Rift closes." Tris was about to speak but he didn't give her the chance, "Ah but I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I. Introductions are in order. I am Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?" He bowed deeply and kissed her hand.

Cassandra eyed him dubiously, "Another Tevinter. Be cautious with this one." Dorian smirked at Tris, "Such suspicious friends you have here. Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so I would think my assistance should be valuable, as I'm sure you can imagine."

Beatrice finally found her words, "What is this? Stop acting like you're waiting for applause and just tell me what's going on!"

Dorian feigned shock, "What! There's no applause? Fine." His tone became serious. "You must know there's danger. Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the rebel mages out from under you. As if by magic yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius had to distort time itself."

Comprehension dawned on Beatrice, "So he arranged it to arrive in Redcliffe just after the Divine had died." "You catch on quick." Dorian said with a wink. "The rift you closed here, you saw how it twisted time around itself. Sped some things up and slowed others down? He continued. "Soon there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it is unraveling the world."

Tris looked to Solas and Cassandra for input but both seemed stunned into silence.

She turned back to Dorian, "You're asking me to take a lot on faith."

Dorian gritted his teeth, "I know what I'm talking about. I helped _develop_ this magic. It was always just a theory though, he'd never gotten it to work before. What I don't understand, is why he's doing it now. What does he gain, ripping the world apart to acquire a few hundred lackeys."

"He didn't do it for them" Felix appeared out of the shadows.

Dorian smiled and nodded at the man, "Took you long enough! Is he getting suspicious?"

Felix smiled warmly, "No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he would be fussing over me all day." Then turning to Beatrice, he explained, "My father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the _Venatori_. And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."

Tris scoffed, "Why would he rearrange time and indenture the mage rebellion just to get to me?"

Felix frowned, "They're obsessed with you, but I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"You _can_ close the rifts. Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?" Dorian offered.

Felix looked troubled, "If the Venatori are behind those rifts or the Breach in the sky, they're even worse than I thought."

"All this for me?" Tris quipped, "And here I didn't get Alexius a thing."

Dorian laughed, "Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those. You know you're his target now. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage." Dorian started walking towards the back of the Chantry, "I can't stay in Redcliffe, Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But whenever you're ready to deal with him, I want to be there. I'll be in touch."

Everyone agreed, they needed to return to Haven as soon as possible. With the horses, what had been almost a week of walking was now only two days of hard riding. They hadn't had time for a proper rest though, and Cassandra and Beatrice decided go on ahead, leaving Solas and Varric to continue on at their own pace. Varric had seemed to be having the most trouble with his mount, and the women didn't want to wound his pride. So Solas agreed to stay with him, Tris had a suspicion that he didn't liked riding either and saw his relief when it was determined that he would stay behind too.

Haven was just around the familiar bend in the road, she could hear the clashing of the recruits blades as they practiced outside the gates to the village. The women rode up to the blacksmith in a rush and dismounted quickly. Cassandra shouted to the nearest messenger to get the war counsel to the chantry immediately. She nodded at Tris and hurried away.

Handing the reigns of her mount off, Beatrice stroked the horses muzzle "Thank you..." she smiled as she patted his head and watched the stable boy lead the animal to its paddock. Her back and thighs were sore from riding and she wanted nothing more than to collapse into her soft bed. but that was just not in the cards at the moment.

Cullen had watched Cassandra and Beatrice ride into Haven. Their abruptness was alarming. And he was concerned that it was just the two of them. Where were Solas and Varric? Where were the soldiers that accompanied them?

He watched as the seeker stormed off through the gates, leaving Tris standing alone by the blacksmith. He started walking towards her, when a messenger came up to him, "Lady Cassandra requests you join her in the war room immediately."

Cullen grimaced, "Did she say _why_?"

The messenger just shook his head before running off, no doubt to pass along the information to Leliana and the Lady Ambassador.

He looked up to see Beatrice, her hands behind her, arching her back as she stretched, her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, the morning sunlight playing on her skin. Her hair was beautifully disheveled, she had it loose, scarlet tendrils framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind, a stark contrast that only accentuated her delicate pale skin.

His heart rate quickened. He still hadn't found the right moment to speak to her privately about...

_Maker... what was this... infatuation... obsession..._

He was still dreaming about her. Almost nightly in fact. The nightmares were back, but now Beatrice was playing a part in them.

> So much blood. He watched it pool around him. Soaking the edges of his clothes.
> 
> His hands were red. He blinked it out of his eyes.
> 
> The coppery smell of it made his stomach turn.
> 
> The screams of his friends, his fellow Templars, had been silenced for what must have been days if not longer. He heard the claws scraping on the stone, dragging, scratching, tearing, then he could hear them feeding.
> 
> He shuddered in his cell.
> 
> The magical walls surrounding him hummed with a maddening energy. He prayed to Andraste. To the Maker.
> 
> His were the fearful thoughts of the insane.
> 
> A scream would shatter the silence every now and then causing him to jump. Every noise made him jump. Whispers in the dark were at his ear, like teeth, gnawing away at his resolve.
> 
> _Her_ face swam before his eyes. Not the _her_ of the circle, she was lost to him and now belonged to another... to a nation.
> 
> Somehow the demons had burrowed deep into his mind and stolen his secret. He was in love with a mage. But this wasn't the fleeting infatuation he once held as a youth. His heart and soul would pledge themselves to _her_.
> 
> If only he knew how to say the words.
> 
> Her bottle green eyes looked back at him from the darkness. He could not help but stare. Slowly she materialized on the other side of the barrier. Naked and covered in blood. Her beautiful auburn hair, matted to the side of her face. She knelt in the sticky red pool, arms limp at her sides.
> 
> Tris's head was tilted, exposing the soft white flesh of her neck. Blood and gore covered her, yet her face remained untainted. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness. But her eyes were dull and unresponsive.
> 
> She looked right at him, but saw nothing at all.
> 
> Beatrice became a new way for the demon to hurt him. He saw her blood-spattered form every minute of every waking hour. And when he closed his eyes, her lifeless face was burned into his memory.
> 
> The desire demon would come to him, promising to save her if he would only let them in. Tris would lift her head and beg
> 
> " _please... help me..._ "
> 
> Cullen shut his eyes, but _her_ face, _her_ voice, would echo in his mind. The demon would stand behind her, slicing her skin with jagged claws. Blood flowed from the fresh wounds like water.
> 
> " _Do you want her_?" The fiend would purr.
> 
> " _Do you think she wants you? After you let me hurt her? After she's seen you broken? Doesn't she deserve better than you?"_
> 
> Red bloomed on Tris's lips, blood tears streaking her cheeks.
> 
> The demon smiled as she drew her razor sharp talons across his love's throat. His body shook with silent weeping. Helplessly, he watched the life drain out of her. Tris's shoulders slumped forward, the steady rise and fall of her chest, still.
> 
> " _I'm sorry... I'm so sorry_."
> 
> He cried as the sobs wracked his body. But she could not answer him. Her dead body was left there as a reminder of his failure. Her mouth was blood stained and slack in a noiseless scream.
> 
> The demon would come to him afterward, caressing Beatrice's cheek, smearing her blood, marring her white skin.
> 
> " _You did this to her. You couldn't save yourself. How did you imagine you could save her?_ "
> 
> Cullen would curl into a ball on the cold stone floor of his prison cell. His body shaking with grief. His mind cracking under the stress, under the torture of watching her die. The cycle was endless. Any pain he felt was minuscule in comparison to what he felt as he watched the woman he loved being slowly flayed alive and murdered.
> 
> He wanted to beat his fists raw against his jail walls if it meant he could hold her one more time, if he could somehow get to her and protect her.

Cullen watched her now, trying to will the lingering pain and memory of his nightmares away.

Beatrice smiled at the horse master, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. He was mesmerized with the way her mouth moved. He was still too far away to hear what she was saying, but the way her face became animated as she talked, it was hypnotic. Tris seemed to have a warm smile for everyone she passed, her kindness and compassion were unlimited.

He could feel the hammering in his chest as she drew closer.

"Commander" she said, beaming at him.

"Good morning." he managed to stutter.

Beatrice placed a hand on his arm to steady herself as she lifted her boot up and dislodged a pebble from the tread. The gesture was so simple, so easy, yet Cullen found himself nervous as a school boy to have her touch him. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. She did not seem to notice.

"Not going to ask why we're back in such a hurry?" She said playfully.

"I... well... yes..." how she made him flustered with the simplest of words. He smiled, trying to start again, "I was coming over to do just that when I was asked to join Cassandra in the war room."

Beatrice wrinkled her nose as she grimaced. "Yes that... well.. we've had a bit of bad news. There's some... trouble out of Redcliffe."

Cullen was suddenly very alert. "What happened in Redcliffe? Did the rebel mages attack? Were you injured?"

His hand shot out before he could stop himself, lightly brushing her cheek with his fingers, he trailed them down her jaw line and ended up at her chin. Gently turning her head from side to side, he looked for any signs of harm.

She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He realized what he had done and pulled his hand back as if she had burned him. Her lips curled up at the corners of her mouth, "Not exactly. I'm fine but we should go meet Cassandra... we'll explain everything." His eyes searched her face, she was worried about something else too. Beatrice gestured for him to walk with her.

"I have to start by asking your forgiveness." She began.

Still walking, he turned and saw her eyes were cast downward, she was knotting her hands together nervously.

"Whatever it is, I forgive you." He offered.

She laughed, he loved her laugh. "You don't even know what I did, how can you say you forgive me."

He smiled at that but she went on, "Solas was concerned that you might insist on working with the Templars and on a whim, we went to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona."

He stopped abruptly. She braced herself for a lecture but instead was met with a sweet look of concern. "And you were worried I would be upset with you? For simply talking with the mages?" Tris nodded.

He took a step closer to her, he had to look down to see her face. She was still watching her feet when he tenderly lifted her chin. He smiled at her affectionately, her eyes were like emeralds, brilliant and bright in the sun. "I could never be angry with you _Tris_." She smiled at him again, her entire face lighting up.

They stood like that, gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed to Cullen like an eternity. No one existed but the two of them, all of Haven seemed to melt away. His heart was thundering in his chest, he was sure she could hear it. Suddenly their moment was shattered. Cassandra shouted to them from the Chantry doors, "Hurry up, We're waiting for you."

Cullen dropped his hand as Beatrice stepped away from him. She was still smiling as she walked ahead.

He rubbed his neck anxiously as they went into the war room.

Shoulder's back, head up. He was immediately on alert as he saw Cassandra nervously pacing. Leliana was watching the seeker with apprehension. "Cassandra, just calm down and explain." Josephine prodded gently.

"Maybe I should start?" Offered Beatrice, "Solas and I were _concerned_ that we might never learn what it was that the mages wanted, and so since we were nearby, we decided to go to Redcliffe and see the Grand Enchanter."

Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine all turned as one to see Cullen's reaction. But since this was not a surprise, he smiled to himself as he nodded for Tris to continue. Taking a deep breath, Beatrice explained all about their meeting Fiona and how she had no idea who had impersonated her in Val Royeaux. Magister Alexius and Felix. The note. The strange time rifts. Meeting Dorian of house Pavus. The Venatori.

Now it was Leliana's turn to pace, "I have not heard of these  _Venatori_ in any of my reports. I do not like it. I need to make some inquiries before we proceed any further."

Cullen was furious, "He said that? Those were his words? That they're _obsessed_ with you? What else did this _Dorian_ say? What did they have planned if they somehow succeeded and they'd managed to abduct you?" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, ruffling the carefully tamed curls.

Josephine was madly scribbling something down on parchment, "I will send letters to all our noble connections with ties to Tevinter. We will see what they know about these Venatori."

Cassandra was staring at the map on the table, "That Tevinter mage said that these time rifts would only get worse. We must stop them before it's too late."

Leliana stopped in her tracks, "We will do _nothing_ until we have more information. For now, we keep the Herald here in Haven, where the Commander can ensure she is guarded and safe."

Cullen immediately agreed with her, after this news, there was no way he was letting Beatrice out of his sight, "I will see to it personally. Patrols will be doubled and guards will be posted at every possible entrance or exit to the area."

Tris finally spoke up, "And what about what I want? Dorian didn't think I was in any danger unless I was meeting with Alexius. If we can learn what they want with me, maybe we can turn this to our advantage."

Leliana tried to be reassuring, "Of course. Once I know more, we will be able to plan our attack."

Josephine smiled at Tris warmly, "It's only for a few days."


	9. Hammering in My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck in Haven until Leliana can get answers about the Venatori, Tris is finding herself bored. She stumbles upon a training exercise for the recruits and when Cullen issues a challenge to his men, Tris decides to show the Commander that she is more than capable of defending herself. In the heat of their mock battle, neither can ignore their mutual attraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this chapter. Cullen and Tris are beginning to realize that they have strong feelings for each other.

It had been three days so far with no word from Leliana on what the Venatori wanted.

"Patience Herald." She would say whenever Beatrice bothered her for an update. Normally she would have loved the down time, but with a Tevinter cult after her and them no closer to the reason why, she was a little on edge. Varric had tried to help, giving her a signed copy of Hard in Hightown, _to take her mind off of things_ , he'd said.

Josephine was always fun to talk too, but they'd exhausted any new gossip after the first afternoon, besides, she was always busy sending letters and dealing with visiting nobles.

To make things worse, summer had come to Haven, and it was unseasonably warm. The snow was all gone and the lake had finally thawed. The humidity was driving Tris mad. She felt sticky all the time, and the mosquitoes were eating her alive. At night when the temperature finally dropped, it was _still_ too warm to sleep. She had nearly frightened a poor servant to death when she shouted not to light the blasted fire.

Tris tried to sneak away and blow off some steam by practicing her spells, but Cullen had practically chained four of his best Templars to her. "They can dispel any magic that these Venatori might use. I will not allow these Tevinters to harm you" He had said.

Tris had loved the way his voice had dropped to a low whisper when he spoke to her. But four Templars? She could take care of herself. Cullen was being over protective.

She hadn't had a moment to speak to him privately since she'd come back to Haven with Cassandra. Beatrice would see him watching her as she walked to the blacksmith or to her quarters. If she turned to wave or to acknowledge him, he would quickly look away or duck behind something. She would shake her head and laugh at his apparent shyness.

 _A grown man and I can make him blush with just a smile_ she thought.

She was going to have to find a way to break through whatever was keeping him at arm's length.

Taking her copy of Hard in Hightown, Tris decided she would try and read by the lake. It was early afternoon and with her Templar body guards, she figured she'd be safe enough. As she walked out of the village gates she noticed all the recruits were gathered in a circle. Her curiosity got the better of her and she wandered over to see what was going on.

In the center of the ring, Cullen was standing with a staff. He was wearing training leathers today with a simple cotton shirt. He had a playful smirk on, as he issued a challenge to the soldiers around him, "What? No one feels they can take me?" He laughed, "If a mage were to attack you in close quarters, you would need to know how to defend against their staff as well, it can be used for more than just magic."

Cullen had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his muscled arms flexed as he leaned casually on the staff. The soft material of his shirt was darker around his neck and at the small of his back where he had been sweating. By the look of several of the recruits, he had bested many challengers already.

Cullen's gaze swept the crowd, his smile crinkling the soft skin around his eyes. He expertly spun the staff around, showing off no doubt, before laying it to rest across his broad shoulders. He let his arms hang from it idly as he laughed again, "Will no one even _try_?"

His Templar swagger was in full effect.

 _Here he was unquestionably in command_ , she thought.

Cullen's playful taunting laughter was all she could hear as she made up her mind. Stepping out into the circle, she caught him off guard, he was not expecting a challenger to come forth, let alone her. Tris gave him her biggest smile and bowed. His smirk faltered for a half a second before he was grinning ear to ear. He returned her bow and announced to the watching crowd, "Now you've done it men... the Herald herself has decided to play with us today. You'll get to see firsthand what that staff can do in the hands of a mage who knows how to use it."

Cullen tossed the staff he had been holding to her without warning. She caught it easily enough and spun it around in front of her several times before twisting it behind her back and then twirling it over her head. Beatrice finally slammed it down hard in the dust, sending out a shower of sparks overhead. The soldiers erupted into loud applause.

 _Cullen wasn't the only one who could show off_ , she thought, giving the Commander a smile.

He barked out a laugh as a Templar handed him another weapon. Beatrice was glad she had decided to wear her soft lamb skin breeches and a light cotton tunic today. She pulled the blouse tight, gathering up the excess material and knotting the fabric at her back.  Her well worn leather boots were practically dancing shoes.

She approached the center of the ring where Cullen was still standing.

 _Had he always been this big_ she thought, momentarily distracted. She could not remember seeing him out of his armor before.

Tris turned the staff in her hand, spinning it around and then mimicking the motion of sheathing it as you would a blade. Cullen gave her a smoldering grin, his own staff held against the length of his forearm, at the ready. The crowd of soldiers cheered again. Tris didn't know who they were rooting for.

Cullen leaned forward and in a voice only for her said, "Rules are simple, hits are implied, it's a friendly sparring match... not a fight."

With a wink he stepped back and swung the weapon around, cutting through the air with powerful strokes, then holding it like a sword, he added, "and Beatrice.... _no magic_."

Beatrice's heart was pounding, she rolled forward but left her flank exposed, when she turned, he was there, the staff inches from her shoulder. Cullen smiled at her, "One/Nothing."

She twisted around and twirled the staff around her back, with a loud crack, their weapons collided. Again and again, Cullen blocked her strikes, then she saw an opening, bringing the staff down hard, she stopped just before making contact with his nose. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. "One/One" she said.

He moved smoothly around the circle, so agile for such a big man. Their weapons making contact in rapid succession, then Tris feinted left and Cullen took the bait, she danced around him and brought her staff down again, she'd scored another hit on his back. "Two/One" she smirked. He turned to look at her, his eyes were molten honey. He lunged forward, she barely had time to react, bending her body back, his weapon only just missing her. She pulled the staff up in the nick of time, blocking his forward thrust, but leaving her unguarded for his riposte. They were both breathing heavily as he cocked his head to the side and smirked back "Two/Two."

They each retreated to a separate side of the arena, Tris raked her fingers through her hair, roughly pulling out the chignon that she had so carefully styled that morning. Shaking out her long tresses, she looked up and caught Cullen staring at her with a heated fervor that had nothing to do with their sparring. With a lusty roar he came charging at her, she blocked his barrage of assaults, then used his forward momentum to her advantage, rolling him over onto his back.

She stood above him, breathless and smiled "Three/Two." Cullen had landed in a puddle of mud, his relatively clean shirt was now soaked with dirty water, and his hair, he winced as he touched the back of his head and came away with a handful of mud. Standing up, he gave her a scandalous look as he pulled the ruined shirt over his head.

Tossing it aside, he was now completely naked from the waist up. His skin glistened with sweat, his chest and shoulders were kissed with fading scars, the taut muscles of his stomach made her weak in the knees.

" _Maker's Breath_ " she sighed, biting her lower lip.

Cullen couldn't have heard her with the soldiers being as loud as they were, but he had clearly seen her and the reaction she was having to his lack of dress. His lips curled up in a wicked grin and he began circling her in the ring.

He would move left as she would go right, then he would change directions unexpectedly, causing her to lose her rhythm. Cullen was a predator stalking his prey. All the while, that devilish smirk made her heart race. Her eyes couldn't help but devour his skin. The way his biceps flexed and his large hands so expertly handled his staff. His tight leather breeches stopping right at the chiseled cut of his hips.

Her heart was going to explode it was beating so fast. Her breath was coming in gasps.

Cullen licked his lips and charged her, she was not expecting him and struggled to keep up with his swift attacks. Swinging her staff around, he saw an opportunity and grasped her right arm, deftly flipping her over his back and onto the ground, she recovered quickly, rolling to her feet and standing with her weapon ready.

He nodded at her and she came at him with everything she had.

Their lunges and thrusts were a blur, they danced around each other, completely in synch. Then Tris swung low causing Cullen to jump to avoid being hit, and when he landed she rolled forward, hooking her arm around  his leg and letting her energy pull him over her. He was on his back again, his leg still hooked under her arm, around her waist. His shoulders and back arched, she knelt between his legs. They were both breathless but suddenly Cullen was laughing softly, "I yield, I yield."

She released his leg and he fell flat on his back. Quickly standing and jumping up, she twirled her staff to her side, it was second nature. Then she offered Cullen a hand, she helped him to his feet, but she pulled too hard and his body came crashing into hers. For a brief moment his bare chest was crushed up against her breasts. His arm slipped around her back, steadying her so they didn't fall. Her left hand lingered on his upper body. Tris's hair fell into her eyes and she looked up at him through a veil of red locks. He gently ran his hand along her cheek, tucking the offending strands behind her ear. Tris swallowed hard. Then Cullen smiled at her, his eyes still burning with desire, and stepped away.

He raised his arms and shouted to the soldiers. "Your Herald!"

The men were cheering even louder now if that was possible. They started to flood the ring, congratulating her on her victory, saying that Cullen had taken down 20 men before she showed up. But she barely heard them. He had walked over to the edge of the lake and was standing in the water up to his thighs. He had reached down and splashed his face and was dragging his wet hands through his hair.

Cullen looked up and saw Tris staring at him, and the look he gave her, _Maker_.

Her heart was still beating erratically an hour later when she said goodbye to the last of the soldiers and made her way back to her quarters. Still dizzy from their embrace, she wasn't paying attention and didn't see him leaning on the door of her cottage. He had changed into clean clothes, another pair of leather pants and a soft cotton shirt, dyed blue this time. The color suited him.

She took a deep breath, "Back for more?" Teasing him was the only defense she had left. He laughed but didn't move. She walked up to him, she was standing closer than was appropriate, but she didn't care.

He leaned forward, his face inches from hers now, his hot breath tickling her ear, "You forgot your book."

Tris blinked but couldn't seem to form a complete thought, "My.... _book_.... what book?"

Cullen smirked again and handed her a small item, wrapped in gauzy white cloth. "OH! Varric's book!" She bit her lower lip as she looked back up at him, his hair was still damp, the ends were curling as they dried, she had a mad thought to run her hands through it.

"I'd completely forgotten. Thank.... you...."

He was starting at her with the same heat from earlier. He leaned his head back, rubbing his neck and spoke softly, "You know, no one's ever beaten me like that. In all my years training recruits, no one, mage or Templar, has ever been able to best me with staves."

She smiled up at him, "Well you hadn't met me yet."

His laughter surrounded her like a warm embrace. "No... I certainly hadn't." His voice was a low rumble. "You are quite the mage Beatrice, you know that." The way he spoke her name, she felt a tight coil of desire in her belly. "That's not fair... I beat you without magic."

"So you did indeed. Where did you learn to fight like that." Cullen asked her, his eyes still burning into hers.

"My uh... my grandfather was a Templar. He taught me how to fight when I was growing up." She was losing her train of thought again.

His lips, that scar, she wanted to kiss him, to pin him to the wall.

"He must have been an amazing fighter." Cullen reflected. " _Hmmmm_... ooh yes. He was."

She was touching his chest now, without even realizing it, she had stepped into his arms, his hand at her hip, his strong fingers grasping at the loose material of her tunic, her fingers lightly curled around the material of his shirt.

"I should... let you rest." His voice was thick with need.

As he spoke, his head moved closer to hers, tilting slightly to one side. She wanted to ask him to come in... to stay with her. But suddenly he stiffened, he stood up and took a step away from her. His gaze went to the tavern, Tris didn't see what it was that had alarmed him.

Whatever or whoever it was seemed to flip a switch and Cullen quickly moved away, but he took a deep breath and turned back to her, "We shall have to do that again, My Lady." Then he turned away and walked to his own quarters.

Beatrice fell back against the door, breathless.

Cullen was laying on his bed, in nothing but his leather breeches. He was reading some report, only half paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to her. There was no denying their attraction now, he had been wondering for months if she might feel the same way about him, and now he had his answer. Cullen smiled to himself, that sparring match was the best foreplay he'd ever had.

He heard a noise at his door and was instantly on alert. He sat up, ready to tell off whatever servant was about to enter, when Tris stepped into his quarters. She was wearing a linen dress with a leather corset. She had her hair pulled up and away from her face again, loose strands of crimson waves spilled onto her white shoulders.

Her eyes blazed as she looked at him. He started to ask her if she was alright when she took a step towards him, undoing the clasps at the front of her bodice. His breath quickened. He sat up and saw that she had the front of the corset open completely. In one swift motion she lifted her skirts and straddled him, pushing him back onto the matress.

Her hands ran through his hair, her nails lightly scraping his scalp. His eyes closed and he groaned with longing. She caressed his cheek, her other hand sliding down his stomach. He wanted to kiss her but she pulled away. Cullen tore open the thin material of her dress, exposing her breasts. He pulled her down to him, his hands slipping around her back. His mouth found her nipple and he pulled on it with abandon, hearing the need in his own groans of pleasure.

Tris fell forward, she cried out as he roughly scraped her tender flesh with his teeth. His fervent tongue flicking and lapping at her. Cullen's hands slid up her shoulders and to her throat, he cupped her face tenderly as their lips crushed together, tongues hot and probing. His strong arms held her to him as he devoured her mouth, she was gasping and panting.

Suddenly he flipped her onto her back, she struggled, not wanting to give up control, but he had taken her wrists in his iron grip and was pinning them over her head as he roughly ground his hips into her. She was biting her lower lip looking up at him with fire in her eyes. He lowered his head and kissed her passionately. She writhed in pleasure under his body, her hips undulating with her desire.

Still holding her down, he trailed hot kisses along her jaw and throat. His greedy mouth found her breasts again and he licked and sucked on her nipples. Tris moaned and threw her head back in pleasure. Cullen released her and went up on his knees, he frantically tugged at the fastener on his breeches, pulling the hard length of him free. Tris looked at him full of desire and yearning.

She was not ready for him but he didn't care, he wanted her now. His cock thrust into her roughly. Tris closed her eyes with the sensation of the pleasure mingling with the pain. She hissed and wrapped her legs around him, squeezing her thighs tightly.

He was above her, his thick biceps holding him just out of reach. Her fingertips traced the muscles up his shoulders and around his neck as he thrust into her again and again. Finally letting her pull him down, he penetrated her mouth with his burning tongue. Their breath coming together in ragged gasps. Cullen dragged his hands through her hair, pulling it free, her long tresses flared out on his pillow. Bottle green eyes smoldered up at him and he pumped his hips faster.

Their kisses were frantic and insatiable. His hands cupped her face again, her mouth was so delicious, he could not bear to stop kissing her. She was sighing and moaning into his ear, her body trembling violently as she came. Tris raked her nails across Cullen's back, he cried out in pleasure. Rolling his hips into her one last time, he groaned as his own release consumed him.

Tris suddenly sat bolt upright in the darkness of her chambers. Her breathing erratic and panting.

 _A dream_... she thought... _Maker's Breath_.

Collapsing back into her soft bed, she smiled and rolled over. Her body still shuddering from the memory of Cullen inside of her.


	10. I Just Wanna Have Something To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banter... Iron Bull... a dream... finally making a decision about Redcliffe!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. This is filler but the next chapters will be good... I promise.

The swell was rough and rhythmic as it crashed into the shore on the Storm Coast.

Dorian was complaining of being sea sick.

"We're not even on the water." Tris laughed.

"You know who else gets sea sick... _Cullen_." Chuckled Varric. "On the crossing from Kirkwall it seemed like he was always complaining of the rocking and then *snicker* he'd rush to the rails and chum the water."

As she watched the sea churn and surge, she couldn't help smiling.

Beatrice thought about the argument they'd had before she left. Cullen had been determined that she not go on this mission, "We still don't know the full extent of the danger these Venatori pose. What if you're ambushed or attacked?"

He had pleaded with her, begged her not to go.

"This Qunari mercenary could be a good lead. I need to follow up on it." She had tried to be understanding, but he was being so over protective of her.

Leliana and Josephine were still trying to gather information on the Magister in Redcliffe, but it was taking longer than expected. Dorian had come to Haven as well, offering insights on his former mentor, hoping to help us discover more of their plot.

Cullen followed her into her quarters after the war room counsel, still lecturing.

"I wish you would reconsider. Just stay in Haven a few more days. _I cannot protect you out there_."

She was packing her things, and every time she would add something to her bag, he would take it out. She would have laughed at him if he hadn't been so agitated.

"Cullen, I'll be fine. Cassandra and Dorian are going with me, and so is Varric. They'll watch my back."

He held one of her cotton tunics in his hands, stroking it absentmindedly. Looking off into the distance, his brows were knit in contemplation. 

She went over to him, putting her hand gently on his arm, and took the garment from him.

As it slid from out of his grasp, he turned to Tris. Mingled with the look of concern and worry on his face, was a burning desire that made his amber eyes smolder.

" _I... cannot... protect you out there._ " The words were hardly more than a whisper.

The intensity of his gaze had her immobilized.

Since they had sparred, and what had happened or almost happened afterward, she felt that some of the walls between them were finally coming down. Neither had made any formal declarations, but the stolen glances and lingering touches left much unsaid.

"Cullen... you... don't have to worry..."

He gathered her hands in his own, bringing them to his lips. She felt his hot breath as he pressed the lightest of kisses to her fingers, "I will _always_ worry, My Lady."

Cassandra barked out a laugh as they continued towards the water, "If I remember correctly Varric, you were not very fond of our voyage at sea either."

Varric gave the seeker a scathing look as he scrambled down the rough terrain.

* * *

 

Cullen had watched her go with trepidation. A growing sense of dread sank like a pit in his stomach.

He had tried unsuccessfully to convince her that the risk was too great, but Beatrice was fearless. She was no shrinking violet. He supposed that was one of the things that drew him to her.

She was confident and bold, and it was apparent that she wouldn't back down from any challenge. She may have been a mage, but she had a warriors spirit.

Yet the anxiety that was closing in threatened to suffocate him.

He knew that he would not feel better until she was safe in Haven once more.

Leliana snuck up on him, "You are playing a dangerous game Commander."

He sneered at the spymaster, "And you, _apparently_ , are always watching."

He would have kissed her. Confessed his feelings for her. Finally been able to hold her in his arms, if it hadn't been for Leliana. It had been _her_ staring at them from the tents near the tavern that day.

She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice, "It is my _JOB_ to watch Commander."

Cullen just shook his head and tried to walk away, he was in no mood for this.

Her voice trailed behind him, "I see _everything_... and I don't know what game you're playing at..."

He was incensed, turning back to face her, he angrily snarled, "I am not _playing_ at anything. Whatever _this_ is, it is between Beatrice and myself. It is none of your concern."

Leliana stepped back, the heat of his anger was unexpected. She had had her suspicions of the Commander's intentions for some time but this just proved her right. And after what she had interrupted, she thought her concern was justified.

"We are at war Commander. The Herald has to remain focused on the task at hand. She cannot afford to be distracted by a frivolous dalliance."

Cullen was fuming. As if what he was feeling were frivolous.

He gritted his teeth and stared the spymaster down. "It. Is. None. Of. Your. Concern."

But Leliana would not let it go, "We have a greater good to consider. The priority must be the Breach and restoring order to Thedas."

He closed his eyes, resigned to her chiding. "I can assure you. No indiscretions have occurred."

She was smug. "Good. I expect you to maintain your distance Commander. I _will_ be watching."

* * *

 

_The Iron Bull and his Chargers seemed like friends that the Inquisition could use_ , Tris thought to herself.

Their jovial laughter followed her into her tent as she retired for the night.

She could still hear them, trading stories with Varric as she unwound the thick knot of hair at the top of her head. She lazily ran her fingers through her scarlet tresses as her mind drifted back to Cullen.

Beatrice had been so certain that if they had not been disturbed, he would have kissed her. At the very least, she had hoped that he might have spoken with her about their obvious attraction.

This spark between them was all she could think about lately. She knew she had to focus on the Inquisition and sealing the Breach, but was there not room for this as well.

She closed her eyes and massaged the stress in her temples.

They were camped on a beach now and Tris let the rolling thunder of the waves lull her to sleep.

> Moonlight filtered through boughs heavy with snow.
> 
> Frozen vapor appeared before her as she tried to catch her breath.
> 
> The only sounds her labored breathing and the ground crunching under her boots.
> 
> Tris ducked under a branch but the brambles tore at her cheek.
> 
> She felt the warm trickle of blood.
> 
> Breathless, she grasped a tree for support.
> 
> Risking a glance behind her, she saw their red eyes in the darkness, searching...
> 
> Lifting her cloak over her head, she ran onward.
> 
> A wolf howled in the shadows.
> 
> Her heart was racing.
> 
> She saw him standing on the edge of the precipice. His back to her.
> 
> His Templar armor gleamed in the silvery light.
> 
> She reached for him.
> 
> He turned and smiled at her.
> 
> She was not expecting Cullen.
> 
> The screams and shouts were getting closer.
> 
> Tris could see the fires of their torches closing in around them.
> 
> Waves crashed and broke on the rocks below.
> 
> She could taste the salty air on her tongue.
> 
> He took her hand... thick fingers interlacing with her own.
> 
> With a hard swallow.
> 
> They jumped.

Beatrice rolled over in her tent.

The morning sun was peeking through the opening, spilling dusty light over her face. She pulled the blanket over her head.

They were heading back to Haven this morning, and the nightmare from last night did not sit well with her.

It had been years since she had dreamed of that night. Of _him_.

Shaking off the memory, she laced her boots and threw her traveling cloak over her head. Stepping out into the camp, she scowled at the rain.

"Morning Sunshine..." Varric smiled.

"How can this weather be possible. It can't be raining and sunny all of the time!" She exasperated.

The Iron Bull was playing cards with Dorian and the rest of the Chargers, "Welcome to the Storm Coast, Boss." he said with a wink.

Cassandra was sharpening her blade on a whetstone but looked up when she heard Tris's voice. "Good you're awake. Leliana sent a raven this morning. They have more information on this Magister Alexius and the Venatori plot. She wants to make a decision about Redcliffe as soon as possible."

* * *

 

They'd been at it for hours.

Cassandra and Beatrice both insisting that the strange magic that the Venatori were using, these time rifts, was a more immediate threat than investigating whatever it was the Lord Seeker was doing with the Templars.

Cullen however, vehemently disagreed.

"With the rebel mages at their disposal, who knows what irreparable damage they might do to the fabric of time!" Cassandra yelled.

Cullen glared at the Seeker, "Yes, and if we ally with the Templars, the Order can help neutralize that threat!"

"Who knows what Alexius has been doing while we sat idly by and waited to take action." Beatrice lamented. "This is an unnatural and unstable magic, we must deal with it before it becomes any worse."

"If we side with the Templars, they can help us. It would be a simple thing to..." he went on.

"This has nothing to do with choosing the mages over the Templars and you know it." Tris shouted.

Cullen looked at Beatrice, her face scrunched up in an angry scowl.

He tried to reason with them, "Redcliffe castle is one of the most defensible keeps in all of Fereldan. Breaching it would be almost impossible."

Josephine waved a note in the air, "Magister Alexius has sent an invitation to the Herald. He seeks to negotiate the use of the rebel mages to seal the Breach. But he wishes to meet with the Herald, alone. It could be a trap."

Cullen laughed bitterly, " _Of course it's a trap_!"

Leliana smiled, "We _could_ use the secret passage way underneath the castle to get our men inside. They could take out the Venatori guards and then you'd be able to deal with the magister unopposed."

"And use the Herald as BAIT!?" Cullen was incredulous. "No. Absolutely not!"

Suddenly Dorian barged into the war room, "If you're going after Alexius, I'm going with you. This plan has merit... all you need now is a clever and devastatingly handsome mage and you cannot fail." he said with a wink to Beatrice.

Cullen glowered at Dorian. He did not like this Tevinter, nor the way he fawned over Tris.

Turning to her now, Cullen sighed, "If you think this is the best course of action. Leliana's plan could work, but we cannot order you to do this."

The last glimmer of hope that she would abandon this folly died when Tris smiled in response.

Cassandra looked triumphant as well, "I am glad you finally see reason Commander. We leave for Redcliffe immediately."


	11. Time Will Destroy Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pulled through Alexius's time rift, Dorian and Beatrice come face to face with a nightmare future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many feels guys... for maximum emotional strife I suggest listening to the DAI OST track In Hushed Whispers on a loop.

Her head was ringing.

Slowly blinking her eyes, she tried to remember how she got there. Wait. _Where was here_. The last thing she remembered they were in the throne room in Redcliffe castle.

Leliana's agents had taken out the Venatori guards.

Cassandra and Varric had been right behind her. Dorian was confronting Alexius.

There was a flash of light.

Dorian was next to her now, laying in the dirty water of the cell.

They heard voices and sprang into action, easily dispatching the two guards who had come in.

Dorian was thinking out loud, "We panicked him... he was supposed to kill you for this... _this Elder one_... but he panicked and must have used magic to send us forward in time... but how far forward... we don't know."

"Dorian..."

"Or what if he didn't mean to send us anywhere..."

"Dorian..."

"But the magic backfired and it DID send us through time..."

" _DORIAN!_ "

"Hmmmm..."

"Forward in time or not, what do we do now?"

"Oh don't worry my dear, I'll protect you."

They seemed to still be inside Redcliffe castle. Water was leaking in from cracks in the floor and ceiling, flooding much of the dungeon.

Red lyrium crystals erupted out of the walls and the floor.

"Don't touch it." Tris warned.

"Why... what happens if I touch it." Dorian wondered.

"Varric didn't say... but I don't think anything good."

The two mages silently explored, looking for any clue as to _when_ it was that they were trapped. Fighting a group of guards, they were at a cross roads.

"I suppose we'll have to search both areas won't we?" Dorian said with a face.

"Don't like the smell?" Tris joked.

"It's not that... it's all these atrocious dog statues." He laughed.

She bumped him on the shoulder, "Dorian... I'm glad you're here with me."

He gave her a dazzling smile, "Of course you are my dear, I'm glad I'm here with me too."

The two of them went down some stairs that led to a different cell block, there were bones and debris scattered everywhere. But in the last chamber, they found Grand Enchanter Fiona.

Or rather, what was left of Grand Enchanter Fiona.

The poor woman appeared to be alive, but she was completely encased in red lyrium. Her legs were no longer her legs, instead, they were fused to the stone. Red crystals erupted from her torso and neck.

"You!" Fiona gasped. "You are dead! They told us you were dead! The Elder one came and no one was left to challenge him. He is stronger than the Maker!"

Tris was shocked, "Fiona! What... what happened to you."

The former Grand Enchanter sighed, "They force us to take the red lyrium, the longer you are exposed to it, the more it infects you. You start to become, like this, and then they mine your corpse for more."

Beatrice was horrified. Dorian angrily swore.

"I know this is a strange question but, when is it?" He probed gently.

Fiona looked confused, " _When_? It is almost a year now, since you have been gone."

"A year!" Tris exclaimed.

"And in that year, this Elder one took control and has driven the world to madness." Dorian presumed.

Fiona was pleading now, "You must stop him, no one can challenge him, not even the Maker. You were the only one." The poor woman was sobbing as they left.

Dorian touched Tris on the shoulder, "It's worse than I thought. We seem to have gone forward into some kind of alternate reality. One where _you_ didn't exist to stop this from happening."

Beatrice shook her head, "Dorian, we _HAVE_ to find a way back."

The next group of cells was empty, so they continued down, deeper into the dungeon.

Beatrice had just cracked the door when a familiar face turned his head listlessly.

"Varric!" She shouted.

He closed his eyes, then opened them, surprised. "Hmm the visions are usually gone by now." He quipped.

"It's me Varric. I'm not a vision. I'm here." Tris ran to the bars.

His eyes were glowing red, he had obviously been infected with the red lyrium.

"But... we saw you die. That Magister..." Varric stood up.

Dorian came through the door, "You didn't see us die, Alexius used magic to send us forward in time."

"Well.... shit." Varric sighed.

"What... what happened." Tris was trying her best to make sense of everything.

"The Elder one, he's the one responsible for the Breach, the explosion at the conclave, everything. After you _died_ , he had no one to stand up to him. The Inquisition tried, Cullen led one last siege, but our forces weren't strong enough. Everyone is either dead, or was captured, and is probably dead now anyway."

The blood drained from Tris's face. She sank to her knees. Everyone... _dead_. Maker no!

"The Elder one assassinated Empress Celene and then raised a demon army to conquer the south. The world is in chaos...." Varric continued.

Dorian took a deep breath, "We have to find a way back."

Tris nodded in agreement.

The three of them went into the next room and found Cassandra in a cell, reciting the chant of light.

Red eyes looked at Tris with confusion. "This cannot be real. You are dead. I failed you. I failed everyone. The world has become _this_ because of me."

Tris spoke softly, "No... Cassandra... I'm not dead. You haven't failed. Help us now. This is all because of magic. If we can reverse the spell, this future might never happen."

"Magic? You are truly alive then! Perhaps this is the Maker giving me a second chance!" The Seeker stood up and stepped towards the cell door. Her chest glowed red where the lyrium was taking hold.

The four of them made their way back to the upper dungeons, fighting soldiers and demons alike as they continued upwards into the keep.

They were in a long hallway now. Heavy doors lined both sides. The ground was stained with blood, dark and sticky. Bones were carelessly discarded along the walls.

Creeping forward, the screams of a woman could be heard. The man torturing her was trying to get her to renounce the Maker. She was defiant until her very last breath. Tris felt like she was going to be sick.

Turning a corner, another voice could be heard.

"Come now Sister Nightingale, you know I can make all this stop, you just have to sing for me." The man seemed amused by his own drollness. "There is no one left who can save you."

Leliana cried out in pain.

Without thinking, Beatrice kicked the door in, her staff flared to life in her hand.

The man turned and in his moment of shock, Leliana lifted her legs and broke the man's neck.

She spit on his corpse, the anger and pain etched in her face. Tris rushed to aid her.

"Don't you want to know how we got here?" Dorian asked.

"No. It does not matter." Leliana sneered. 

"Alexius opened up some kind of time portal and sent us into the future. This isn't real." He went on anyway.

Leliana raged, "Do not SPEAK TO ME of this world. You think this is not real because for you, it is just a bad dream. It is pretend. But to me... IT IS REAL! I have lost everything. I have suffered. I have known pain that you cannot imagine."

Dorian was speechless.

"Now we must find Alexius if we are to have any chance of sending you back and ensuring that none of this ever comes to pass." Leliana was enraged.

"Leliana, what... _what happened_. To the Inquisition, to you, _to everything_." Tris murmured.

Her face softened as she remembered, "After you were gone, we struggled. We held on for a few months but Cullen wanted to lead an assault on Redcliffe. Maybe he thought you might still be inside, alive somehow. When the last of our forces tried to storm the keep, they were no match for the demon army that the Elder one summoned through the Breach."

"And... Cullen... the soldiers..." Tris felt her eyes burning.

"Dead. To the last man." Leliana bit out.

Beatrice angrily wiped at the tears spilling onto her cheeks.

"The rest of the Inquisition?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Leliana sighed, "We were captured soon after. I am the last alive."

Dorian set his jaw, "We will find a way to undo this. I swear it."

"We must find Alexius, he will be in the throne room. We must hurry." Leliana rushed out of the door.

They made their way up another set of stairs into a chapel of sorts. A rift had opened inside and there were demons pouring out. Tris and Dorian cast winters grasp on as many fiends as they could, with Cassandra shattering them with her blade. Leliana and Varric rained arrows down around them. The fight was over quickly.

Opening a portcullis, they climbed more stairs into a massive cavern. Tris could smell brackish water.

They heard a mage protesting as another claimed that the Elder one needed more power. There was a scream and then there were more demons.

Fade walking into the middle of the fight, Tris cast a barrier on herself as Cassandra pummeled the demons. Dorian was using immolate as fast as his mana allowed. Smoking piles of demonic essence littered the floor.

They moved up another set of stairs.

Another long hallway, this time the doors each had little barred windows. They slowly walked forward.

Dorian looked inside the first door and gasped, "Commander!"

Tris's heart stopped.

_Could he be alive..._

She ran to the door, pulling on the handle. It wouldn't budge. Putting her hand on the iron lock, ice started to radiate out from her palm. The temperature in the hallway dropped sharply. Using her staff, she bashed the frozen metal, shattering it and leaving the door hanging open.

Beatrice pushed inside and her breath caught in her throat.

"Cullen!" She sobbed.

Sitting on a grubby mattress, one knee crooked up against the wall, was her Commander. His hair a tangle of dirty curls. His beard, shaggy and unkempt. He lifted his head at the sound of her voice.

His face was drawn and thin. His eyes glowed red.

There was red lyrium covering the right side of his neck and shoulder. She could see the sharp jagged crystals all down his back, His right arm, was a red lyrium claw.

Cullen angled his head towards her, his skin was spider webbed with glowing red veins. He had more crystals growing from his side. A red light burned where his heart should be.

"Be gone." He growled. His voice was not his own. It reverberated with an echo of something... sinister.

She took a step towards him. Dorian catching her by the arm.

Beatrice glanced back, heartbroken.

With pity, Dorian shook his head, "We cannot help him. Let's move on."

The scraping sound of boots on stone made her look back to where he had been sitting.

Cullen had gotten up.

He was doubled over in obvious pain, " _Wait_. What is this? The visions are never this... _real_."

Tris wrenched herself from Dorian's grip and took another step towards Cullen.

He was looking at her, confused, " _I know your face_." He reached a hand out to touch her.

She could feel her tears flowing freely now.

_He was in so much pain..._

Cullen limped towards her, his face contorted in a mask of suffering.

His hand came up and gently brushed her cheek with his fingertips.

He closed his eyes and whispered her name.

" _Tris...._ "

"I'm here Cullen. I'm so so sorry." She cried.

"You... _died_." His face became a cruel grimace. "This isn't real. Leave ME!" He roared. 

She was weeping as he turned away.

"I'm so sorry." Her shoulders shook, " _I didn't die._ The Magister, he used magic to send me away."

He looked at her with disgust, "Lies! I will HEAR NO MORE!"

Her ragged sobs were the only sound in the room.

Dorian was behind her again, trying to pull her back to him.

She shook free and ran to Cullen. Grasping him by his shoulders, she forced him to look at her. "I _will_ fix this. I promise you. I will find a way to go back and _fix this._ "

His red eyes seemed to focus on her again, " _Tris...._ " Her chin quivered as he cupped her tear streaked face. "You're... _here_. You're... _real_." He drew his thumb across her lower lip.

She leaned into his palm and closed her eyes.

Cullen fell to his knees, his arms came up around her. The red lyrium claw vibrating with a menacing power.

He pressed his face into her belly, sobbing, " _You were dead. I thought you were dead._ "

Tris bent down, her arms winding around his head and shoulders. She held him as they cried together.

Suddenly he leaned back, his head tilted up to look at her face. His left hand caressing her cheek, "I failed you. I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect anyone." Tears welled up in his eyes, " _I loved you and I couldn't protect you...._ "

Beatrice's heart skipped a beat...

_He said... I loved you..._

Cullen had drawn her to him tightly. His face was tucked into her side. His right arm a steel bar at the small of her back. She ran her fingers through his hair and laid her head upon his brow.

Impatiently, Leliana cleared her throat and took a step towards them, Dorian tried to hold her back.

Tris looked up as Cullen snarled at the spymaster. Pushing her protectively behind him, he lunged at Leliana.

"NO! STOP!" Beatrice screamed.

Cullen turned back, rage melting to sorrow as he saw her face. "I... _forgive me_."

Tris was breathing heavily as she stepped into his embrace again. His head was down as he held her to his chest with one arm. His lyrium claw hung limp at his side.

"We need to get to the throne room." She murmured. "We might be able to force Alexius to reverse the spell that caused all of this."

His red eyes burned into hers, they watched her mouth intently as she spoke. His head dipped down, lips parted in a sigh. He stopped himself just before kissing her. His eyes darting back up to her own. She was crying again. He pulled back, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"By my life or death, if I can get you to him, I will." He placed his fist at his heart in a salute.

Tris laid her hand on his cheek, "Cullen... I... I'm so sorry. I wish I could take away all the pain."

He smiled at her, a tiny spark of the man she knew flickered back to life. " _I know_."

It was clearly excruciating for him to move, yet he followed her. His lip curling in a sneer as he went past Leliana and Dorian. He didn't even notice Varric or Cassandra.

There was a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall, it was locked. Cullen smashed it to bits with his lyrium fist. In the darkness, it glowed with an ominous light.

Out in the courtyard, Tris gasped as she saw the sky. The Breach was everywhere. Green magic swirled and churned in the heavens. Great pieces of the earth floated up in the air.

A rift opened up and terror and pride demons swarmed over them. Cullen put himself between the monsters and Beatrice. His sword swinging through them with abandon. He bellowed in rage as he charged into the fray.

Tris cast a barrier on him and herself, as she fade walked to the other side of the battlefield. Cassandra screamed as she slashed and tore through their enemies. Varric and Leliana stayed back, firing arrows as fast as they could.

She felt the familiar sizzle of magic surge through her body as a flash of green made her shield her eyes.

Leliana had moved to a side door and was motioning for them to follow her.

Inside, there were guards and demons prowling the halls. They tried to sneak in but soon the battle was raging.

Cullen would not leave Tris's side. She could see how it pained him, but he fought valiantly. When the last demon fell, they turned their attention to the Magister.

Leliana kicked open the door to the throne room.

Alexius was just sitting there, "I always knew you would come. I didn't know when, or how, but I knew I hadn't destroyed you. Just another way I failed the master."

Dorian stopped when he saw that Alexius wasn't alone, "Felix? What have you DONE to him!"

Alexius turned to the husk of a man that had been his son, "I couldn't save him. I did all this for him... and I couldn't save my son."

Leliana had snuck up on them, she roughly grabbed Felix and held a blade to his throat.

"No! Don't hurt him! I'll give you anything you want." Alexius cried.

" _I want the world back!_ " she snarled as she slit his throat.

The Magister screamed and threw a lightening spell at her, she rolled away from it, coming up next to Tris. Cassandra and Cullen were both trying to take the damage from his spells for the rest of them. But then Alexius called a host of demons.

Magic whizzed around the throne room as battle cries and the smell of blood filled the air. Dorian was slinging fire balls and winters grasp in a blur. Leliana raining arrows down around them.

Tris fade walked to Varric, just as a nasty terror demon came up underneath them both. She couldn't help but cry out as she fell.

Cullen heard her distress and barreled into the monster, knocking it away from them. It slashed and scratched at his face, leaving bloody gashes. With a heavy swing of his sword, the beast's head was cleanly sliced off.

Dorian had gone after Alexius, with a nod of thanks to Cullen, Tris had fade walked over to the two mages and used spirit barrage to paralyze the Magister.

"Give us the amulet you used to open the time rift!" Dorian shouted.

Alexius was blubbering like a child. He pulled it out of his robes and Leliana put an arrow into his skull.

Tris turned her face, but was sprayed with blood none the less.

Suddenly the room shook. "The Elder one knows we're here!" Shouted Cassandra. "He is coming."

Dorian explained that he could probably figure out the spell in a few hours.

"NO!" Leliana insisted, "you MUST go now!"

A great roar made the very stone quake, it almost sounded like a dragon...

"I can't leave you... you'll all die!" Tris cried out.

"The only way we live is if you make sure this day never comes." Leliana said with sadness. "You have as much time as I have arrows."

Varric and Cassandra nodded their good-byes and went out into the main hall to defend the throne room.

Leliana took up a position about fifteen paces from the door.

Dorian ran to the back of the room, pulling Tris with him, only for her to hesitate.

"Come on! We have to go..." he insisted.

Cullen was standing a few feet from Beatrice, his eyes were blazing. She ran to him and took his hand, what could she possibly say that would encompass everything that she was feeling.

_Thinking he was dead had crushed her._

_Seeing him infected with the red lyrium had shattered her heart into a million pieces._

_Then to hear him say he loved her._

_She hadn't realized she felt the same way until she had thought he was gone forever._

_And to see his pain, to know he suffered because of her._

She lifted his hand to her lips and tenderly kissed it. "I will remember."

He smiled sadly, his brows knitted together in heartache, and then turned away and drew his sword.

A shudder went through the hall as Tris ran to Dorian's side. Suddenly the doors flew open and Cassandra's broken body came crashing through. A terror demon came striding in, dragging Varrics lifeless form.

Leliana loosed her arrows.

Her and Cullen began reciting the chant of light in unison:

> _Those who oppose thee_
> 
> _Shall know the wrath of heaven._
> 
> _Field and forest shall burn,_

An arrow pierced Leliana in the shoulder. Cullen was fighting off six demons at once.

> _The seas shall rise and devour them,_
> 
> _The wind shall tear their nations_

Tris moved to help them. Tears were streaming down her face.

Dorian pulled her back, "If you move, we all die!"

> _From the face of the earth,_
> 
> _Lightning shall rain down from the sky,_

Leliana was being overrun. She had multiple arrows in her chest and yet was still fighting.

> They shall cry out to their false gods,
> 
> And find silence.

Beatrice turned to see Cullen, they locked eyes for an instant and then a demon slashed his throat, a fine mist of red was the last thing she saw as Dorian pulled her through the rift.

* * *

Dorian had his arm around Beatrice's waist as they fell through the time rift. From the look of the room, it appeared that they were only gone a moment.

Alexius bent his knee in surrender. But as Dorian was going to question him, Ferelden soldiers marched in and took up positions throughout the hall.

Grand Enchanter Fiona rushed up to the tall blonde man who walked in. "King Alistair!" she said as she bowed. "What are you doing here?"

The King narrowed his eyes, "I thought I was helping the mages by offering them refuge in Redcliffe. But how do you repay my kindness? You throw my uncle out of his own castle and form an alliance with Tevinter! What _do you_ think I'm doing here?"

Beatrice was drained, body and soul. Pain and grief were causing her to shudder uncontrollably. She leaned on Dorian, who still had his arm around her. They slowly made their way to the King.

"Ah and the Herald of Andraste! I should have guessed you'd be here." King Alistair did not look happy.

"Your Highness," She tried to curtsy, but with Dorian holding her up, it proved difficult. "We were, just..."

The King held up a hand, "It's alright. I probably don't want to know anyway." Then turning back to Fiona, "As for you Grand Enchanter, you and your mages are no longer welcome in Fereldan."

Fiona blanched, "Where are we to go? What is to become of us?"

Tris smiled weakly at the poor woman, "I believe I can help with that. The Inquisition still needs mages to deal with the Breach after all."

Fiona narrowed her eyes and asked suspiciously, "And how will we be joining the Inquisition, exactly?"

Beatrice glanced at Cassandra and sighed heavily, "I wish to offer you a full partnership. We need your help. I will not force you to do something that you do not want to do."

The seekers eyes opened wide with shock. Dorian had a huge grin on his face. And Varric just pinched the bridge of his nose. Tris knew there would be hell to pay for this decision, but these were her people, she couldn't allow them to suffer any more.

King Alistair snarked, "I would take it. I doubt you'll get as generous an offer, _anywhere else_."

Fiona sighed and nodded her head, "Then I supposed I have no choice but to accept."

Without another word, the King and all of his men marched back out.

Fiona left to organize the mages. They would be heading to Haven as soon as possible.

Cassandra and Varric were full of questions, but Dorian silenced them immediately, "We will explain everything, but for now, know that Tris has suffered a trauma and needs to rest before anything else is done."

Beatrice squeezed Dorian's hand in thanks and he gave her a sweet smile.

Cassandra went to secure their prisoner. Alexius would need to be dealt with, but for now, he could stay in Redcliffe's dungeon and rot for all she cared.

They needed to get back to Haven but Tris wasn't sure if she could stand on her own, let alone ride. Dorian helped her outside where a group of the Inquisitions soldiers were waiting.

He led her to a stone bench, "Wait here a moment would you, love. I'll be right back."

Varric leaned against the wall and laughed, "Well you two have gotten cozy in a hurry. I'm sure Curly will be crying himself to sleep when he finds out."

Beatrice didn't even have the energy to joke with Varric. She had just been to a nightmare that was the future if she failed. She had just seen them all die. The look she gave him made him come over and put a hand on her shoulder. "That bad huh? Ok. I'll drop it."

Suddenly Dorian was back. He was sitting astride a mount and had a devilish grin on his face. He rode it right up to where she was slumped on the bench. He reached a hand out to her, "Come on then. Up you go."

Tris gripped his wrist and in one fluid motion he had her up in front of him on the saddle. She leaned into him as he slid an arm around her waist to hold her up. Then he urged the horse forward and they were off.


	12. It's All over but The Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian rushes Tris back to Haven... Cullen is extremely jealous of the Tevinter mage. Tris is not well, and the two men must deal with each other while taking care of her.

Cullen was still furious at Leliana for her meddling. He had been avoiding her as much as possible since Beatrice had left to deal with the Magister in Redcliffe.

They had only been gone for four days when a raven flew into Haven early in the morning. Cullen had been out with the recruits and immediately found an excuse to rush back to the Chantry to see if there was news.

He approached her tent cautiously. "You can come in Commander," Leliana droned.

She was reading the note, her brows knitted together in confusion.

Cullen was instantly on alert, "Is something wrong? Did something happen to Beatrice... I mean the Herald?"

Leliana gave him a scathing look and tossed him the rolled up parchment, "Read for yourself."

Worried, he opened the letter, it was in Cassandra's hand.

> The Magister has been dealt with, he awaits judgment in the Redcliffe dungeons. The mage alliance has been secured as well, they are full allies of the Inquisition now. I will let the Herald explain. Also, an unusual magical phenomenon occurred while we were confronting the Magister, Dorian and Beatrice were pulled into what they are calling a _time rift_. Dorian refuses to explain more and will not let us question the Herald any further. He will only say that she suffered some kind of trauma while they were gone. She _does appear_ extremely fragile at the moment, but I'm sure the healers will be able to help her once she returns to Haven.
> 
> \- Cassandra

Cullen wasn't sure what issue to address first. He was furious that the mages we welcomed into the Inquisition with no caveats in place for their safety or the safety of anyone else. They had been living unsupervised for far too long. There could be abominations or maleficarum in their ranks with no way to tell.

He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it into a sorry state. How could Beatrice be so careless.

_Tris..._

His heart beat faster just thinking of her.

Suddenly, he was sick with worry. A trauma? An unusual magical phenomenon? What had happened in Redcliffe.

According to Cassandra, she appeared extremely fragile. _Makers Breath_!

The dark anxiety that had been plaguing him since she left was back tenfold.

Half of him wanted to ride out to meet their party, to take her in his arms and make sure she was safe, and the other half wanted to shout and lecture her on the irresponsibility of her actions.

Leliana had been watching him this whole time, "Well? What do you think happened?"

Cullen rubbed his neck, "I don't know."

She eyed him suspiciously then turned her back abruptly, "I'm sure we will get an explanation soon enough."

Shaking his head, he walked back to the recruits, his mind completely taken over with thoughts of Tris.

It was late the next day, Cullen had been nervously walking to and from the main gate, checking to see if there was any sign of her. His apprehension at what might have happened grew exponentially overnight.

He was still angry with her decision regarding the mages but his need to know she was alright outweighed anything else.

Cullen was walking back to his quarters for the hundredth time when he finally heard the scouts call out their arrival. He turned on his heel and rushed to the gate.

He was not happy with what he saw.

Only one horse approached Haven. They were galloping at a rapid clip. Cullen was now twice as concerned that something was wrong. But the rider didn't look like Tris. He squinted his eyes and tried to make out who it was riding in.

With a start, he realized it was Dorian in the saddle. But he was holding someone as well. It was Beatrice. Sweet Maker how injured was she if she couldn't ride on her own.

He barked for a healer to meet them at the gates immediately.

Dorian rode up, and Cullen could see that Tris looked paler than usual.

Dark circles appeared under her eyes. The delicate skin of her eye lids was purple and bruised. Her hair had fallen out of the knot she usually wore it in, loose tendrils danced in the evening breeze.

She stared forward, not seeming to see anything.

Without a word, Dorian had slid from the mount and reaching up, he lifted Tris down into his arms.

A wave of unbridled jealousy surged through Cullen.

What was this Tevinter mage playing at. He'd only known Beatrice for a few weeks. To be so bold with her. Cullen was incensed. She needed a healer, not to be carted around like a rag doll.

The ground dropped out from under him as he watched Tris wrap her arms around Dorian's neck, she was snuggling into his arms as he started to walk towards her quarters.

Cullen was glowering at the Tevinter now. His gaze shifted back to Beatrice, and he noticed something. She was breathing slower than normal and her eyes were glassy.

"Did you give her a potion or a draught? Without her permission!?" Cullen was ready to take Tris from him by force if necessary.

Dorian just chuckled, "She was exhausted. It helped her sleep. She would have said yes if she'd been able to."

The mage smiled down at Tris, a fondness in his face that had not been there before.

Cullen's blood was boiling.

"She _would_ have said yes? Meaning you _did_ give her something without her permission!"

He was right on Dorian's heels as he carried Beatrice to her room.

"Be a good man and get the door would you?" Dorian was whispering something to Tris under his breath.

"No... please don't go. _Don't leave me_." She cried suddenly.

Cullen was distraught. Perhaps this trauma that Tris had been through was worse than he anticipated.

Dorian pushed his way into her room and lay her on the bed. He knelt down and touched her face intimately, smoothing her hair back and murmuring to her, "Shhh I'm not going anywhere. You're safe now love. Close your eyes and I'll get you some medicine."

Cullen wanted to throttle him. His heart was pounding and he had been clenching his teeth.

Dorian, not noticing the homicidal ex-Templar in the room, turned to Cullen, "Got any lyrium?"

The request was not an unusual one but in his case, it was a sensitive subject, "No." was all he said.

"Blast, she needs lyrium, would your healers have any?" Dorian was looking out the door, "Never mind, I remember where they keep it. Stay with her would you, or you could fetch the lyrium?"

Cullen stared daggers at him.

"Be right back then." Dorian chirped.

 _Where was the bloody healer,_ Cullen wondered.

" _Cullen..._ " she whispered.

His anger seemed to evaporate at her needing him.

He knelt down beside her, she had rolled onto her side and was looking up at him with fever bright eyes. Cullen put his hand on her brow and smoothed her hair back. It pained him to say, but Dorian seemed to soothe her more easily than he did.

She searched his face with her bottle green eyes. "Am I back?"

"Yes, you're safe in Haven again."

Tris closed her eyes and started to cry. She looked up at him, tears shining on her cheeks, " _You're alright_."

Cullen smiled, "Of course. But are you alright, that's what I'm worried about." He was becoming concerned again. Why would she need lyrium, shouldn't they have had some in case of emergency. He knew all mages carried them. Had they exhausted their supply.

Just as he was going to ask her what had happened, Dorian burst into the room.

Cullen nearly jumped back when he smelled the lyrium droughts that were on the tray he was carrying.

"I... uh I should go. Let her rest." He started nervously.

Dorian gave him a reproaching look, "Talk to her man, she's been asking after you the entire ride back."

From the way they were behaving, he had thought that Dorian and Beatrice had become... _involved_. Now he was more confused than ever.

"Why would she be asking after me? Dorian, what happened in Redcliffe?"

The mage just shook his head, "I cannot relive it just yet, and she most definitely cannot. So don't ask. Just be there for her. She's still in shock. Her body expended more energy than she had to give. She pushed her abilities and her emotions too far. Now she's paying the price."

Understanding finally dawned on him, Tris was going through lyrium withdrawals. Cullen looked down at her lovingly, why didn't he see it sooner, he of all people should have recognized her symptoms.

A mage can naturally replenish their mana stores over time, but diluted lyrium potions _were_ carried for emergencies. How many had she consumed in the few days she'd been gone to cause this type of reaction?

Cullen stood up, seething, he turned his ire on Dorian, "You know the dangers of consuming too much lyrium! Why didn't you stop her!"

Dorian angrily shot back, "The situation was... _unprecedented_. And besides, I wasn't aware that she _had_ been taking them until we were on the road back to Haven. Don't you think I would have stopped her if I had! You're not the only one who cares for her you know!"

Cullen needed to know what transpired that drove her to do this. "Dorian, you must tell me what happened!"

Dorian shook his head, "It's too raw. Especially for her. Do not put her through it again so soon. She took too much lyrium because of the stress of what happened and now she's coming down a little too hard. She'll be right as rain in a few days, but give her time."

Cullen hadn't even realized he was sitting next to Tris on the bed with his hand on her leg. Dorian smirked and lifted an eyebrow at the Commander, "She's going to need round the clock attention for at least the next twenty-four hours. Think you can help with that."

"Yes of course! Whatever she needs." Cullen was watching her sleep, _why would she have done this to herself._

Dorian smiled, "Good, because she needs to have these potions diluted gradually, every hour, and I haven't slept in almost a day."

Cullen stood up, "You're not staying?"

Laughing Dorian clasped the Commander on the shoulder, "I know, it'll be hard to manage without me, but do try. I'll be back in the morning. Besides, I think an ex-Templar should be perfectly capable of handling a situation such as this."

As Dorian stood up to leave, Cullen turned to ask him something, "How did you know I would be willing to help. Was it because I was a Templar?"

The mage smirked and gave him a wink, "Let's just say, I had a hunch that you cared for her and leave it at that."

Cullen turned back to Tris, she was curled into a ball on her side.

He went to the table where Dorian had left the lyrium. Sighing, he took note of the medicine dropper and the glass vials with water. Dorian had left a helpful note with how many drops to mix hourly."

As if as a former Templar, he wouldn't already have that memorized.

He picked up the bottle of undiluted lyrium, uncorking it and hesitated. He had not handled lyrium in any form in quite some time.

Yes he would sometimes stare at the box that held his own lyrium leash, but he wouldn't touch the cursed vial within. But now, he could smell it. He could almost taste it. He closed his eyes tight.

Tris cried out in her sleep.

Cullen set his jaw and retrieved the medicine dropper. He would do this for her. She needed him now, and he would be strong _for her_.

The bright blue mixed with the water and Cullen could feel a cold sweat break out on his brow. He hadn't taken Lyrium for several months. This shouldn't be that hard.

He knelt down at her bedside, "Beatrice.... Tris... you need to wake up. You need to take this medicine."

She opened her eyes, drowsy and fever bright. "Medicine?"

Cullen smiled at her, slipping an arm under her shoulders to lift her so she could drink. He brought the draught to her lips. Tris closed her eyes as she let him tip the blue liquid into her open mouth.

He laid her back down and she rolled into him, his arm still around her.

Cullen dropped the vial. It rolled away on the smooth wooden floor. He could feel his heart quicken at her closeness. She was inches from his face now.

Her finger tips came up and brushed his lower lip.

She sighed and looked deep into his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

He couldn't move, her eyes were mesmerizing. "You don't have to be sorry...."

Tears began to fall onto her cheeks.

He cupped her face with his free hand, "Shhh it's alright..."

But Tris shook her head, "No... it was my fault. I wasn't there and you... you...." Her chin began to quiver and more tears were falling from her eyes.

"I'm alright. Don't worry about...."

Cullen never got to finish his sentence. Tris had closed the short distance between them and pressed her mouth to his. She slid her velvet tongue past his lips and he was lost. Her mouth was hot and sweet and... _Maker preserve him_.

 _Lyrium_.

He could taste the lyrium on her tongue. He groaned as she sucked and pulled, deepening the kiss. His hand wound into her hair. He couldn't stop himself from caressing her tongue with his own.

She pulled away suddenly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm soo sorry."

Tris dropped her head onto his shoulder and was weeping.

Cullen was breathless and aroused from their kiss but he held her as she cried.

" _My fault..... If I fail..... The red lyrium... I'm sooo sorry._ "

He could only make out a few of her words but the pain in her voice was real... He needed to know what had happened in Redcliffe. How could he protect her if he didn't know what was wrong.

Cullen tried to soothe her as best as he could. She had fallen asleep, tucked under his chin, every now and then her breath would hitch in a cry or whimper.

Her rolled her back, freeing his arm and he slid down the side of the bed. Bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his head on his folded arms. He would make Dorian tell him what had happened tomorrow.

The night passed slowly, Cullen would give her the medicine and she would fall back on the pillows. Her cries of distress told him that she was dreaming of terrible things and he wanted nothing more than to climb into the bed and hold her. But he didn't dare...

He had brought nothing to read and he wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, not when she needed him. Finding her copy of _Hard in Hightown_ , he smirked to himself.

_If Varric only knew he was actually going to read this..._

There was a soft knock on the door just as the sun was beginning to lighten the sky.

Dorian poked his head in and smiled at Cullen. " _Hard in Hightow?_ Really Commander?"

Cullen lowered the book quickly and stood up, he was stiff from sitting on the floor most of the night.

"How's our girl?" Dorian had moved to Tris's side and was stroking her hair.

He felt the jealousy bubble up inside of him again. "She's had a rough night but has been quiet for the past few hours. I think she's through the worst of it."

Dorian smiled, "Good, I can take over while you get some sleep if you'd like?"

Cullen didn't like the idea of leaving her, but just as he was about to decline, he yawned and realized that he was indeed exhausted.

"I'll be back soon. Keep her safe." The words came out more threatening than he had intended.

He left her room and took a deep breath in the early morning light.

He hadn't faced that many temptations in a long time. The taste of lyrium mixed with the taste of her. He rubbed his neck and walked to his own quarters, how had he not gone mad.

Cullen collapsed onto his bed, waking up to late afternoon shadows playing across the floor.

Quickly he changed into clean leather breeches and a soft cotton shirt. He pulled on his calf skin boots as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking glass. Filling the basin with water, he roughly ran his hands through his hair.

 _Good enough_ , he thought, not bothering to shave. He was anxious to see how she was, _and to replace that mage at her bedside_.

As he stepped outside, he caught the attention of one of the servants. "Can you have someone from the kitchens bring dinner for two, better make that three, to the Heralds quarters?"

"Yes Commander." the man nodded and ran off.

Cullen scratched the stubble on his cheek, he remembered his own lyrium withdrawals and how ravenous he had been after a night like Tris had suffered through last night. Food would be just what she needed.

He was smiling to himself as he approached her door, but stopped short when he heard her pealing laughter float through the open windows.

 _At least she was feeling better_ , he thought darkly. He was resentful that it wasn't him making her laugh.

Knocking, he heard Dorian's voice inviting him in and scowled.

As he opened the door, Cullen was enveloped in orange blossoms and some kind of sweet spice. He breathed deeply. This was her smell, and it was all around him.

His eyes went to the bed first, he needed to know she was alright, only to see _that mage_ stretched out and smirking at him. "Good evening Commander."

Cullen was incensed but before he could tell Dorian off, he heard a laugh from near the hearth. Turning his head, he quickly looked away, "Maker's Breath! Forgive me..."

Josephine's Orlesian copper bath was in the corner of the room, and Beatrice was inside, lying back in the steaming water. She smiled at him, her hair drenched and pulled to one side, it clung to her wet skin.

Dorian stood up and strode over to her, leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek "Changing of the guard I suppose, the Commander is here to relieve me of duty." He ran his fingers along her cheek and tucking a loose strand behind her ear, playfully tugged on her thick rope of hair. "I _am_ glad you're feeling better darling."

The mage then gave Cullen a bright smile and said, "A moment Commander..."

Cullen was livid... but he turned and stepped outside with him nevertheless. "What."

Dorian did not seem to be aware that anything was amiss. "She's doing remarkably well, considering the shape she was in last night. Thank you for that..."

"I didn't do it for you." Cullen said through gritted teeth.

"No, of course not." Dorian gave him a sly grin. "But I thank you all the same. I'm not sure she would have recovered so quickly under anyone else's care."

Cullen looked back at her door, impatiently. "Is that all."

"I think she can be weaned off the lyrium completely today. I left a note of the proper..." Dorian began.

"I know the measurements and dosages. Thank you." Cullen dismissed him.

The Tevinter mage simply bowed in mock salute and gave him a wink. "Of course."

Taking a moment to arrange his features into a less murderous stare, Cullen went back into Beatrice's room.

He tried not to look at her in the bath but his eyes couldn't help themselves, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. At first glance, she wasn't there. Then her head emerged from the bath water slowly.

She ran both hands back through her hair and shook out her long red tresses. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. He smiled at her, quirking his mouth up into a lopsided grin.

Tris returned his smile brightly as she leaned back and sunk down into the warm water.

"You look much better today... that is... _not to say_... you looked... bad... yesterday..." He was stumbling over his words. Why did her presence always seem to jumble his thoughts.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was lying naked in a bath right in front of him and was continuing on as if they were in a war room counsel. He could feel the heat rush to his cheeks.

Beatrice brought her hand to her lips to hide her smile. She was enjoying this. "Dorian tells me that is in no small part thanks to your dedicated care."

"I was just..." He looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "You needed me. How could I give you any less than my full attention." Cullen had dropped his voice to a low rumble.

Tris shifted in the bath, he heard the water gently lap at the sides of the basin as she rolled onto her side. His eyes darted up to her face and she had a look of longing in her eyes. Quickly he looked away.

"I'm making you uncomfortable aren't I?" She asked sincerely.

"It's not... _entirely_ that." He started. "You are comfortable in your own skin, it is admirable."

She laughed, a soft and sweet tinkling of bells. "I was raised in the Circle dormitories. One does not have the luxury of modesty there. Surely you're not shy Commander. You grew up under similar circumstances."

Cullen crossed the room to the desk and took a seat in the chair, turning it to face her. "I suppose that's true." he mused. "Although there weren't many... woman... among the Templar recruits... who looked like you."

Beatrice smiled, "Who looked like me? Whatever do you mean Commander?"

He took the bait, willingly. "Most of my friends in the Order were men. The Templars do not recruit as many beautiful young ladies as they would have you believe."

Tris smirked at him, "you think I'm beautiful?"

He laughed, "You _know_ you're beautiful. You certainly don't need me to tell you..."

"What if I want you to tell me..." her voice was husky and low.

Swallowing hard, Cullen started, "Last night..."

 "Was I much trouble... I don't remember anything but bits and pieces." She sighed.

_So she didn't remember._

"No... no trouble at all. You were asleep for most of it." He smiled and tried to hide his disappointment.

Her lyrium kiss still burned his tongue.  

Beatrice looked at him despairingly, his heart ached to kiss her again. "Thank you... I... I don't know what I would have done if you and Dorian...."

Tears started to well up in her eyes and he was on his knees at her side in an instant. "Don't cry....  _beautiful lady_."

She sniffled and laughed at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

He cupped her face in his hand, wiping away the tear with his thumb. "Tris... What happened that made you do such a foolish thing. I know you _know better_ than that. I was so worried about you."

She leaned back in the water and sank down low, her eyes and the top of her head the only thing not submerged. Her gaze burned into his as she suddenly pulled herself under completely.

 _She's going to have to tell me eventually_ , he thought with a sigh.

A knock at the door took his attention away from the impossibly thick red hair that was swirling around her face as she continued to hide under the water.

"What is it." He called out.

"Commander, the food you requested."

He walked briskly to the door and three elves from the kitchen entered, each laden with covered trays and bottles of wine.

"Yes, set them over there." he waved. "Thank you."

Tris was still submerged when he returned to her. "You can't stay under there forever." he laughed.

Opening her eyes under the water, she looked up at him, a stream of bubbles escaping from her lips.

Shaking his head he sat down and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands.

She silently broke the surface, her eyes searching his, "I need to explain... what... _what happened_."

Beatrice looked like she was about to burst into tears again. His heart swelled with compassion, maybe Dorian was right, maybe it _was_ too soon for her to relive it. "After we eat perhaps?" He smiled.

Relief washed over her features.

Then he nearly fell out of his chair when she abruptly stood up.

Her wet skin glistened in the firelight as she lifted herself out of the bath. Cullen closed his eyes, stifling the unintentional groan that nearly broke free of his lips.

Tris reached for a stack of sheets as she gracefully stepped out of the water.

He turned away, suddenly taking great interest in the pattern of the wood grain of her desk. He heard her moving and turned back, chancing a glance and this time he could not hide his sharp intake of breath.

Beatrice was standing, her back to him, stark naked.

Bent at the waist, her head was tipped upside down, deft fingers combing through long wet hair. The curve of her hips and her backside were too much. He felt a coil of desire tighten in his belly.

He forced himself to avert his eyes. Cullen was breathing slow and steady, trying to maintain composure.

Hearing movement behind him, he turned his head and caught a glimpse of her, wrapped in a long white sheet as she bustled about the room.

He should have offered to help her, but he could not move his legs.

Tris cleared her throat with restrained amusement, "You can look now."

Cullen twisted his head around and found her sitting up on her bed, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. She had on a pair of lam skin leggings and a soft white blouse. Her scarlet tresses, still wet from the bath, spilled over her shoulders like liquid fire.

Beatrice tilted her head to the side and grinned.

He was momentarily stunned at how delicate and beautiful she was. The tender skin of her eye lids was still dark but she looked more rested than she had yesterday. Her face had regained some color in her cheeks and her lips were once again rosy.

"Are you hungry?" Cullen asked.

Tris bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

Two roast chickens, three loaves of bread and four bottles of wine later, and they were laughing and joking together as if wasn't raining demons outside.

"Worse prank you ever pulled in the Circle." She said giggling, as she brought the cup to her lips.

Cullen was thoughtful for a minute, "Hmmm... I was still a recruit. Probably fourteen, maybe fifteen. A friend of mine and I decided to see if the Knight-Captains armor would look better on the flag pole at the top of the ramparts than on him. We snuck into his quarters once night..."

She was watching him with smiling eyes, her cheeks were flushed from the wine and laughter. His heart warmed at the thought that he was amusing her.

"We had this training dummy rigged so it would go up the flag pole. The look on his face when he came out and saw the entire regiment saluting his armor." Cullen snickered.

Tris leaned into him as she giggled, they were both sitting against the bed, their picnic spread out around them on the floor.

His head was swimming. "And you? I'm sure you caused plenty of trouble in Ostwick."

Beatrice smiled. "What do you mean? I was the embodiment of the model student..." she burst out laughing.

He couldn't help but join her, they were laughing so hard, his eyes were watering.

"No... _I was_! I swear..." She said between giggles.

"Why do I not believe that..." Cullen grinned.

"Alright... fine. Let's see." Tris knitted her brows together as she tried to remember. "I was twelve, and one of the older apprentices was being an insufferable cow. She was always mean to the younger mages, and had taken a book that my father had given me."

Cullen was captivated by her.

 "I knew she had been using one of the smaller personal libraries, and so I snuck in and did a spell that took all the words off the pages."

"In every book?" He laughed incredulously.

"Well the ones in that room anyway. She thought she was going mad." Tris smiled wickedly. "When she ran off to get one of the senior enchanters, I reversed the spell. Then everyone else thought she was going mad."

Shaking his head, he sighed, "Remind me not get on your bad side."

Tris giggled, "I would probably just get Sera to... steel all your breeches or something."

"Why would she... never mind. I don't want to know." Then looking at the darkening sky, he remembered she needed another dose of medicine.

Cullen stood up and stretched. Mixing the lyrium drought for her, he thought aloud, "After all that food and wine, I could use a walk. Would you care to join me?"

They passed the blacksmith, with little conversation. Cullen was beginning to think she didn't really want to be there with him, when he heard her sigh.

"In Redcliffe. That Magister used some foul magic to send Dorian and I into the future."

"The Future? How was that even possible." He started.

"It does not matter how he did it. Just that... it was a nightmare. It is what will come to pass if I fail. This Elder one will destroy the world. But... that's not the thing that upset me the most...." She was worrying a fingernail as she chose her words carefully.

"I saw what would happen to the Inquisition without me. Cassandra and Varric were there... they'd been imprisoned. Leliana was being tortured. I watched them... die... so that Dorian and I could escape." She was looking down, tears were shining on her cheeks, as she explained.

"And so you took lyrium to help you?" He was trying to understand.

"You were... you were there too Cullen. The keep was swarming with demons and guards and I lost track of how many potions I had taken. I was just trying to get out alive. If Dorian hadn't been there..." She whispered.

His jaw clenched. _Dorian_.

Cullen looked up at the Breach. The sky was swirling with magic and the smell of an incoming storm tickled his nose. "It's probably going to snow tonight" he said, trying to change the subject.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but a messenger ran up suddenly and informed them that they were needed in the War Room immediately.

He escorted her to the Chantry without another word. He hadn't noticed before, having been so focused on Tris, but hundreds of mages were setting up camp outside the city walls.

His anger at her rash decision flashed hot and wild.

They could hear shouting and bickering before they'd even gone through the door. Then adding to Cullen's growing irritation, he heard Dorian's voice from the corner, "Cassandra is right! You wanted the mages allegiance, and now you have it."

Cullen snarled at him, "There could be abominations or _worse_ in their ranks. And they've just been given unrestricted access to the Inquisition! This was not how we wanted the mages to join us."

"Not how YOU wanted them to join anyway." Dorian snorted.

"Cassandra! Why didn't you stop this from happening." Cullen wondered, ignoring the Tevinter entirely.

"Because while I might not agree with it, I respect the Herald's decision. Closing the Breach is all that matters. Our goal was to gain the mages alliance, and that was accomplished." Cassandra said calmly.

Leliana chimed in, "I'm more concerned with this dark future you witnessed. A demon army! Empress Celene Assassinated!"

"All things an evil Tevinter cult would think up yes?" Dorian quipped.

Cullen set his jaw and turned to Beatrice, "None of this means anything without your mark. I will begin preparations to march on the summit immediately. We shall have to address the potential danger that these mages pose at another time."

Tris searched his face for anything but anger, but he found himself unable to quell his rage.

He watched her leave the Chantry arm in arm with Dorian and he wanted to punch something.


	13. Because The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen follows Beatrice, wanting to apologize, but ends up hearing exactly what upset her in that terrible future she was sent into. Her revelation makes him realize that he can't keep fighting his emotions.

Cullen rubbed his tired eyes. He and Cassandra had been speaking with Grand Enchanter Fiona for over two hours. He had not realized what a sorry state the rebellion was in.

Most of their senior enchanters had been at the Conclave, leaving younger and less experienced mages, including nearly a hundred children, to fend for themselves.

When they retreated to Redcliffe, all they were seeking was a safe haven.

He found the anger that had burned so hot earlier, slip away like a shroud.

Nearly three dozen Templars had stayed with them, supporting their freedom and trying to protect them from themselves as well as those who meant them harm. After Alexius kicked them out of the village, they had maintained a camp outside in secret, waiting for their chance to aid their charges once more.

Perhaps having the mages join the Inquisition was not such a terrible decision after all.

Cullen could feel the throb of a headache forming behind his eyes. The thought of how he had behaved with Beatrice shamed him. His own words echoed in the back of his mind.

_What greater calling could there be... than protecting others._

That was all she had been doing. He hadn't even given her a chance to explain her reasoning. He had simply passed his judgment on her out of his old mistrust  and suspicion of magic.

Sighing heavily, he stepped out into the night air.

 _If my foolishness sent her into the arms of that mage_..... Cullen swore under his breath.

No. He would find her and apologize. She deserved better than this from him.

He could hear music and laughter coming from the tavern as he walked past the requisition officers tent. Stopping short, he saw Beatrice coming from the direction of the healer.

Wasn't Dorian staying in one of those rooms.

His jaw clenched at the thought of her seeking solace with that Tevinter. But a dark voice in his head reminded him that he had no claims on her. She wasn't his to protect.

Tris had her nose in a book and was absentmindedly uncoiling her long tresses from the knot at the top of her head. Scarlet waves spilled down her back as she walked back to her room. The evening breeze caught her hair, lifting it and carrying the sweet scent of orange blossoms to him.

Cullen closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he looked up again, he caught a glimpse of her walking through the gate. Where was she going at this hour?

Quickening his step, he followed her.

As he passed the blacksmith, he heard sweet singing.

> _Enchanters!_
> 
> _The time has come to be alive_
> 
> _In the Circle of Magi, where we will thrive_
> 
> _With our brothers._

 Beatrice was twenty paces ahead of him. She was leaning on a tree in a small clearing.

> _Enchanters remind_
> 
> _That time will not unwind._
> 
> _The dragon's crooked spine,_
> 
> _Will never straighten into line._

 Her voice was sultry and full of melancholy.

> _What we plea will be_
> 
> _A faithful end decree,_
> 
> _Where a man will not retreat_
> 
> _From the defeat of his fathers._

She was not aware that he'd come up behind her.

> _Enchanters!_
> 
> _A time has come for battle lines._
> 
> _We will cut these knotted ties,_
> 
> _And some may live and some may die._

Cullen closed his eyes and joined her, his rich tenor harmonizing with her sweet soprano.

> _Enchanter, come to me_
> 
> _Enchanter, come to me_
> 
> _Enchanter, come to see_
> 
> _Can-a you, can-a you come to see,_

Tris was surprised, but did not stop singing. She turned to him and they sang together.

> _As you once were blind_
> 
> _In the light now you can see_
> 
> _In our strength we can rely,_
> 
> _And history will not repeat._

She was smiling at him now. The light from the Breach reflecting in her eyes. It had begun to snow.

> _Enchanter, come to me_
> 
> _Enchanter, come to me_
> 
> _Enchanter, come to see_
> 
> _Can-a you, can-a you come to see,_

The biting wind lifted her hair and once again the smell of sweet orange flooded his senses.

> _As you once were blind_
> 
> _In the light now you can see_
> 
> _In our strength we can rely,_
> 
> _And history will not repeat._

Cullen returned her smile sheepishly. "Forgive me... I did not mean to disturb you."

Beatrice lowered her eyes and then looked up at him through a veil of dark lashes, "You didn't." Then giving him a sly grin, "I'm surprised you know that song."

He laughed softly, "I _did_ serve in the Circles remember. That was always a favorite of the senior enchanters."

She looked away, towards the Breach, hugging herself as she sighed. "Are you angry with me."

His arms wanted to hold her. His fingers ached to touch her. His lips needed to kiss her.

"No... I was... wrong to be upset. I should have listened to your reasoning before allowing myself to fall back on old prejudices. I spoke with the Grand Enchanter, I hadn't realized there were so many children with the rebellion." Cullen murmured.

Turning to him once again, Beatrice looked sad, "If the Inquisition didn't take them in, who knows what might have befallen them. I couldn't allow them to suffer any more than they already had."

He nodded. "My only concern is keeping everyone safe... _keeping you safe_. With the mages here, it will make things more... difficult. But we have a large number of Templars who joined with the rebels and their presence should help a great deal."

Tris was playing with her hair and thinking. "Cullen...." she began softly.

His heart beat faster when she spoke his name.

"That nightmare future that Dorian and I were sent to... I didn't tell you everything."

Concern washed over him as he listened to her speak softly.

"Everyone had been infected with red lyrium. We found Fiona nearly dead. Her body was becoming crystallized with it. She said that they were forcing them to take it and then when it killed them, they would harvest their bodies for more."

He remained silent. His eyes searching her expression, finding only sorrow and misery.

"Varric and Cassandra had been infected too. Then when we found Leliana, she said that _you_ had mounted a last ditch effort to storm the keep. That the last of our forces were not enough to defeat the demon army that the Elder one had summoned. And you had died."

Beatrice had tears shining in her eyes. Her voice was thick with despair as she continued. "I... I thought you were dead. It... it crushed me. Then... we found you... in another part of the castle."

Cullen's heart was pounding. The rush of blood thundered in his ears.

"You had been... force fed the red lyrium. It... it changed you. Your voice was not your own. You... were... like Fiona. It was killing you slowly." Her shoulders began to shake as she silently wept.

He reached out and touched her hand.

Tris's head snapped up and she burned him with the intensity of her gaze. Her green eyes penetrated his very soul. "You were a... _monster_. And it was _my_ fault. My failure had let them do that to you."

He took a step closer to her, his hand came up and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

She shook her head and swallowed hard. "I watched you die for me. I watched as a demon slashed your throat and the last thing you saw was me being pulled back through that damn portal."

Cullen's brows came together in thought. "I'm so sorry..."

"You don't understand," she cried. "When we first found you. You had no idea who we were. You weren't _you_ anymore... then... you... you recognized me."

Her breath hitched and she looked into his eyes. "You told me you had loved me."

It was barely a whisper, yet she may as well have shouted it.

Tris closed her eyes and turned away from him. He was speechless. She was hugging herself again as the snow fell around them. The world was silent and cold and he could not find his voice.

She turned back to him, her face pleading for some reaction.

"I... I... do care for you." He stammered. "More than I probably should."

Her face fell, the disappointment in his words had sapped the last of her resolve.

She started to walk back to the village.

Why couldn't he tell her how he felt. His emotions grappled within and threatened to overtake everything if he let them. Why was this so difficult.

She was everything to him. When she left, the colors drained from his world. To be near her was to know something he had long given up hope of ever finding.

His life before had been one of service and self sacrifice, to think that she could be part of a future that he had never before thought possible. It was too much to ask for.

Cullen was standing in the snow, reeling from this revelation. Had he even realized how deep his feelings for her were until she told him what his future self had confessed.

Rushing after her, he caught up with Beatrice at the gate. She looked drained and had tears streaking her face.

"Please... wait." he started. "I... I do not know what the future holds, but I know that... I... I want you to be a part of it. I am... I am no good at this am I."

She smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I did not tell you to try and put you on the spot. I am sorry. We have a job to do and I shouldn't have... complicated things."

They stood silently in the falling snow. It was only a few inches, but it might as well have been a thousand miles between them.

A soldier came over suddenly, breaking the silence. "Ser, you requested a copy of Sister Leliana's report."

Cullen closed his eyes and took the parchment, sighing heavily.

"I will let you get back to your duties Commander." Her voice was flat.

Beatrice hurried up the steps and away from him before he had a chance to respond.

* * *

He hadn't slept well that night. His usual nightmares were muddled together with the memory of her, heartbroken in the snow.

A knock on his door brought him back to the present, "Yes. What is it?"

"Lady Cassandra has called everyone to the war room, Ser." the woman said through the door.

Sighing, he stood up and stretched. The tension in his back and shoulders were causing his headache to worsen. He splashed cold water on his face and roughly ran his hands through his hair.

Pulling on his armor, he thought about how poorly he had handled last night.

Why had he not told her how much he cared for her. He should have taken her in his arms and kissed her.

He had almost no experience with romance of any kind. The few times he _had_ been physical with a woman, he had been so _angry_ , it was about release, not love. He had never _been_ in a relationship, and he'd certainly never felt this way about anyone before.

The snow had continued to fall overnight, it was crunching under his boots as he made his way to the Chantry.

This summer storm would be an inconvenience at best, if it continued to get worse, it could be problematic. He made a mental note to have Josephine make sure there were plenty of blankets available for the mages.

A messenger rushed up to him as he was walking by Leliana's post. "Ser, the Grand Enchanter would like you to know that she has readied the strongest and most capable of the mages. They await your command."

This was it then, they would either seal the Breach or... _what_? He hadn't considered what would happen if their plan didn't work. His heart stopped as he thought what this could mean for Beatrice.

 _What if this killed her_.

The thought of losing her. He wouldn't allow the notion to linger. He couldn't.

They were all waiting for him in the war room. Josephine and Leliana were absorbed in conversation, and Cassandra and Beatrice were together, their heads down, examining the map on the table.

He cleared his throat and all eyes were on him. "I was just informed that the best of the mages are ready for the assault on the Breach."

Tris stood up and looked around the room, "I suppose it's now or never." She managed a weak smile.

Cullen stepped towards her, dangerously close, "Please, be certain you are prepared. We have no way of knowing how this will affect you."

She flashed a grin that didn't fool him, "What could go wrong."

"Beatrice. Please. I... We cannot lose you." Cullen pleaded. "The Inquisition cannot lose you."

Cassandra clapped her on the shoulder, "We will take every possible precaution. I will be with you every step of the way. Solas is confident that this will work."

Tris smiled at him again, "See... Solas thinks this will work."

Cullen did not feel reassured.

He watched with a growing sense of dread as she left the war room to prepare.

* * *

Dorian stood with her on the edge of the crater where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had once been.

"And you told him?" the mage said with surprise.

"I needed him to _know_. I wouldn't have taken so many potions otherwise. The whole thing was... just so... _overwhelming_." She breathed.

"Yes but... you told him _everything_? What did he say?" Dorian was incredulous.

"He didn't say anything at first. Then he wasn't particularly... excited by the idea." Tris sighed.

Dorian gave her a funny look, "He said that. That he _wasn't excited by the idea?_ "

"No, not exactly. But it was _implied_." She was trying to focus on the task at hand, but found herself wanting to think of anything else.

Dorian barked out a laugh, "My darling you cannot expect a man like Cullen to react to such information without mulling it over first."

"What do you mean?" She was confused.

"The man's a _tactician_... he's not exactly spontaneous. Give him time to think about what you said... Then speak to him again. You might like what he has to say." Dorian smiled knowingly.

Cassandra motioned for her to step forward. "The mages are in place." She nodded encouragingly.

Beatrice took a deep breath and surveyed the ruined temple around her. She saw innumerable faces reflecting the light of the Breach, they were concentrating on her, she could feel her mark vibrate with power.

She lifted her arm up, her hand sizzled and popped. "Maker preserve me." She whispered, as a link to the Breach began to form.

The green electricity arced and crackled around her, the magic flowing through her made her weak in the knees. She willed the tear in the sky to close with all that she was.

She saw mages falling around her, their mana draining and leaving them spent.

But Tris was determined. With a guttural cry, she pushed her powers to the breaking point. A huge surge of energy erupted from her hand, traveling upwards, it collided with the Breach in a spectacular explosion of light and magic.


	14. Soldier Through This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not even getting a night to celebrate their victory of closing the Breach, Haven is attacked by Red Templars and the Elder one.

There was music and dancing everywhere in Haven. People were celebrating and cheerful revelry filled the cold summer night with levity.

Beatrice was leaning on a stone wall, watching the scar in the sky that the Breach had left behind.

Cassandra came up and stood next to her, "This was a great victory." She smiled proudly. "It proved that we _can_ work together with the mages. You did _so well_."

Tris just smiled back, she felt drained and fragile.

Dorian had insisted that she take a strong lyrium draught on the way back from the Temple, but after what had happened only a few days before, she felt the effects of her over dose all over again.

"Solas says the sky will be scarred, but that the tear in the veil is sealed." Cassandra patted her on the back.

"Might I have a moment of your time, Herald?" Cullen tentatively asked.

They had not heard him approach.

Cassandra gave her shoulder a squeeze as she left the two of them alone.

"Congratulations are in order." He began. "What you did..."

Tris managed a weak grin, "I'm not doing very well to dispel these _Herald of Andraste_ rumors am I?"

He laughed softly, "No... but is that a bad thing?"

She sighed and rested her cheek on her hand, leaning forward on the low wall. Smells of wood smoke and the impending storm swirled around her.

"I suppose people need to believe in something..." She exhaled.

"You've given them hope." He replied, leaning forward with her. Their shoulders were touching and he turned his head to face her.

Beatrice was looking up at the sky. The night was darker now that the Breach was sealed. The dying sunset illuminated her delicate features and he watched her as she studied the heavens.

"Tris..." he breathed her name.

She turned and faced him, her expression a mask of caution.

"I need to tell you something..."

Hopeful green eyes stared back at him.

But before he could say another word, a cry rang out in the night. Alarm bells from the scouts towers began to sound and Cullen was immediately on alert.

Thousands of torches appeared on the mountain side. The sounds of an approaching force echoed through the valley.

"Stay here." He told Tris.

Like hell she was going to stay anywhere. She was fast on his heels as he barked orders to the waiting soldiers.

"To ARMS!" He shouted, as they neared the gate.

Cassandra was already there as he spoke in a rush to one of his scouts. "Cullen?" she exclaimed.

"It's a massive force. The bulk over the mountain." He said in a daze.

Josephine and Leliana appeared suddenly, "Under what banner?" The ambassador wanted to know.

Cullen shook his head, "None."

"None?" She replied, shocked.

A great explosion thundered on the other side of the barred gate, then a soft voice spoke, "I can't come in unless you open!"

Cullen tried to stop her but Tris rushed forward and threw open the doors.

Bodies littered the ground and a hulk of a man stumbled towards her, battle axe at the ready, before collapsing at her feet in a heap of meat and metal. A young man stood behind the fallen warrior, daggers in hand.

Cullen was at her side in an instant, pulling her protectively behind him, his sword drawn.

The boy spoke in a flurry of words, "I'm Cole. I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know."

Beatrice was confused. "What is this? What's going on?"

Cole stepped closer to her, Cullen tensed, "The Templars come to kill you." he said darkly.

Cullen lunged forward, "Templars? Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mage's? Attacking blindly!"

Cole shook his head, "The Red Templars went to the Elder one. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages. He's _very angry_ that you took his mages."

The boy pointed to an overlook, high on the mountain. A man in red armor stood with another... thing. It looked like a darkspawn, with red lyrium crystals all over its deformed body.

Panic threatened to overtake her, "Cullen! Give me a plan! Anything!"

Cullen turned to her, his voice was calm, in this sea of chaos. "Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle."

He faced the Inquisition forces that had gathered, "Mages! You... You have sanction to engage them! That is Samson. He will not make it easy!"

He stalked back and forth in front of them, like a caged beast. Lifting his sword high over his head, Cullen rallied the troops, "Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! FOR ALL OF US!"

Dorian and Varric appeared next to Tris, Cassandra shouted for them to get to the trebuchets.

Fighting their way through waves of red templars, they tried to help as many soldiers as they could. Climbing up the sloping hill, Tris looked back and surveyed the battle below.

In the gathering darkness, all she could see were flashes of magic and flame.

Varric tapped her on the arm, a jerk of his chin directed her attention to the unmanned trebuchet nearby. They would have to make their shot count.

"Watch my back while I aim it." Beatrice shouted.

Red Templars seemed to appear out of nowhere. Dorian threw up a barrier on them while Cassandra charged forward, knocking two into the snow as she pummeled another with her blade.

Varric helped her load a great ball of stone and pitch into the war machine. Fire danced on her fingers as she set it ablaze. They watched it sail over the battling soldiers and hit its mark.

It crashed into the side of the mountain with a thunderous roar. The ground shook as snow and rock joined together in a massive avalanche. The screams and shouts from the invading force could barely be heard above the sound of the mountain crashing down on top of them.

Cheers erupted from the Inquisition forces.

Varric turned to congratulate Beatrice when an unholy shriek shattered the night.

A ball of magic fire collided with the trebuchet, splintering it into a pile of debris. The force of the explosion knocked them all into the snow, as the sound of great leathery wings swooped down over their heads.

"Shit! Who ordered the end of the damned world?" Varric yelled.

The dragon was massive, it screeched and bellowed as it flew over Haven, raining down fire and vengeance.

"Everyone to the gates!" Tris shouted.

Soldiers were scrambling and running, she was trying to help them as best as she could. There were so many injured. So many dead.

Cullen was waiting at the gates to the village, he was frantically ushering people inside to safety.

His face exuded relief when Tris ran up, they sealed the doors behind her.

"We need everyone back to the Chantry! It's the only building that might hold against... that beast!" He shouted. He turned to Tris, his eyes full of defeat. "At this point... just make them work for it."

A cry of alarm wretched her away from any further thoughts of Cullen, as they worked to free a man trapped under a burning beam in a destroyed building.

Red Templars had breached the wall and were fighting in the village now.

The four of them made short work of the invaders. With Inquisition forces aiding them as they worked to get all the townsfolk to safety.

Fire still rained down from above, as the dragon screamed and roared in rage.

Making it to the Chantry, the doors opened, bringing her face to face with Chancellor Roderick.

The clerk was severely injured, he was gripping a bloody gash in his side as he motioned for them to come inside, "Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" he called, his voice getting weaker by the minute.

Cole was by his side, and caught him as the Chancellor collapsed.

"He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep. He's going to die." Cole said, matter of factly.

"What a charming boy." Roderick said, as he gritted his teeth in pain.

Soldiers lay, dead or dying, on the cold stone floor.

The whimpers of scared children and frightened townsfolk buzzed in her ear.

Cullen was rushing about, trying to organize what was left of the troops.

When he saw her, he ran up, his brow furrowed, "Beatrice! Herald! Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you may have earned us."

Cole was helping the Chancellor but turned his head and whispered, "I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the fade, but it looked like that."

Cullen was irate, "I don't care what it looks like. It has cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder one doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald." The boy said softly.

"Well he can have me if it will save all these people!" Tris shouted.

Cullen turned back to her and angrily spat, "No! Absolutely not!"

"He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway." Cole replied. "I don't like him."

Cullen was incredulous "You don't like...?" He shook his head and sneered.

Turning to Beatrice, he softened, "Tris... There are no tactics to make this survivable."

His frustration was written all over his face. "The only thing that slowed them was that avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide..."

Tris shook her head, "We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."

Cullen set his jaw, "We're dying, but we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."

His heart was breaking as he spoke. He could see no way out of this.

Cole knelt down at Roderick's side, "Yes, _that_. Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."

The Chancellor spoke softly, "There is a path. You wouldn't know it unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage. As I have."

Tris stepped towards the dying man, kneeling down so he would not strain himself. Cullen was right at her shoulder, his hands hovered, wanting to reach out and touch her.

"The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could... tell you."

Roderick stood up on shaky legs, his eyes seemed to look past Tris as he remembered. "It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start... it was overgrown. Now with so many in the conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers..."

Beatrice put her hand on the man's shoulder, he looked into her eyes, pleading, "I don't know, Herald. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. _You_ could be more."

She looked back at her Commander, "What about it Cullen? Will it work?"

"Possibly. _If_ he shows us the path. But what of _your_ escape?" He was not going to let her go without a plan.

Beatrice tuned away from him, her head down, and sighed heavily. She didn't answer.

His brows furrowed, Cullen knew this was the only way to save the townspeople, but at what cost. What would the Inquisition, _what would HE do_ , without her.

She would not look at him.

"No! There must be some other way..." He would not let her do this.

"Cullen, there IS no other way." She implored. "I will distract that monster, while you get the people to safety."

"Maybe... you will surprise it... find a way..." She still would not look at him. Cullen turned to the waiting people, "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!"

Beatrice felt a hand on her arm, it was Roderick, "Herald... if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you."

She nodded to him as Cole helped the Chancellor to walk.

Soldiers sped past as Cullen came up to her, a sad determination in his eyes, "They'll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder one's attention until we're above the tree line. If we are to have a chance, _if you are to have a chance_ , let that thing hear you."

Beatrice nodded and started out the door, Cassandra and the others were already waiting for her.

Standing in the swirling snow, Tris inhaled deeply. The cold burned her lungs and the smoke stung her eyes.

This could be the end.

Strong hands turned Tris around, Cullen had rushed out after her.

"Beatrice... _Wait_..."

Bottle green eyes smoldered in the darkening night. "Cullen... I..."

"I can't let you go without... telling you..." His voice was thick with longing.

The hand on her cheek was warm, his fingers burning into her skin. "You don't have to..."

"If something happens... I can't..." His eyes were pleading.

The dragon screeched as it soared low over their heads, fire crashing down from the sky. Cassandra shouted back at her, " _Beatrice_! We must go... _NOW_!"

Tris put her hand over Cullen's, on her cheek. "I have to go..."

She turned and sprinted down the debris laden path as his words were lost to the ether, "I... I love you."


	15. Battle in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus attacks and Beatrice is feared lost...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long chapter... lots of angst here guys...

Dorian clapped her on the back, "Are you alright, love? That looked... _intense_."

Beatrice had been surprised when Cullen followed her out of the Chantry. She had had to force herself to run away. If he had said what she thought he wanted to say, she would have had a hard time heading out to face almost certain death.

"I'm fine. It was nothing." She brushed it off.

"More red templars inside the walls!" Cassandra bellowed.

Tris and Dorian cast barriers on the party and then began raining down fire of their own. Cassandra was taunting a knight and didn't see the two templars sneaking up behind her.

Varric fired a volley from his crossbow and took them down before she even knew she had been in danger.

They barely had a chance to dive out of the way, as the archdemon or whatever it was, came swooping down, scorching the ground where they had just been standing with fire.

"Damn dragon!" Varric swore, "I can't believe people used to worship those things."

"Come on, we have to get to that trebuchet." Tris said, climbing out of the snow.

The path appeared clear, but Inquisition forces were lying dead along the way, "They could be planning an ambush." Cassandra said. When the trebuchet was in sight, that was exactly what happened.

Red templars appeared everywhere, and just as they had managed to thin out the enemy numbers, a great roar shook the ground and a monster lumbered towards them.

Tris imagined this creature had once been a man. The red lyrium had corrupted him into this mindless behemoth. For an instant, she thought of Cullen and how this might have been him in that nightmare future.

Banishing the thought from her mind, she cast winters grasp on the brute as Cassandra shattered it.

"Get that trebuchet ready!" Tris shouted. Varric and Dorian rushed to the war machine but were attacked by another group of templars.

They fell back, trying to defend both themselves and the siege weapon.

Beatrice fade walked to where the templars were, near the aiming mechanism, and began using her spirit blade to cut them down.

"Protect the Herald!" Cassandra shouted, as she charged forward. Dorian cast an immolation spell on two of the knights, sending them panicking and away from Beatrice.

Tris aimed the trebuchet as she watched her friends rally around her. She had everything in position, Cullen's soldiers had managed to load it. All she had to do was fire it.

Suddenly an unholy shriek made her look skywards.

The dragon was bearing down on their position, fast.

"Move! NOW!" she shouted.

Magical fire covered the ground all around her, powder kegs that had been standing near the trebuchets exploded, sending them all sprawling. She landed hard on her back, tasting blood, she was fairly certain that she had cracked some ribs.

From her left, the tall deformed dark spawn tainted with red lyrium emerged from the fire. The Elder one.

The creature was glaring at her with a most hateful expression. She backed away instinctively, but the dragon landed, blocking her path.

Beatrice was trapped.

She looked past the beast, Cassandra was holding Dorian back as he struggled to run to her, Varric had a look of terror on his face.

"RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!" Tris shouted.

She watched them fall back in the direction of the Chantry. _Andraste keep them safe_ , she prayed.

As the dragon approached her, she could smell it's foul breath and feel its rumbling growl deep in her chest.

It reared up unexpectedly, screaming into the night. Beatrice held her ground, unflinching.

"ENOUGH!" Shouted the Elder one, sneering at her. "Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your understanding. NO MORE!"

"Whatever you are! I am not afraid!" Beatrice cried back.

This Elder one was mocking her, "Words mortals often hurl at the darkness. Once they were mine. They are always lies. Know me. Know what you have pretended to be."

He lifted his arms and the fires around her burned hotter and brighter. Tris shielded her face from the inferno.

"Exalt the Elder One! The will that is Corypheus." the monster snarled. "You will KNEEL!"

Tris was outraged. " _Not bloody LIKELY_!"

"You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not." The Elder one sighed.

The monster had a strangely carved orb in its grasp. It held it up and caressed it tenderly. "I am here for the _Anchor_. The process of removing it begins now."

The orb began to glow red, like the corrupted lyrium. It sizzled with a ominous magic as he reached out his other hand and with a surge of power, pulled her towards him.

The mark on her hand exploded with pain, as the magic crackled and vibrated. It involuntarily shot out towards the Elder one. "It is your own fault, _Herald_. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose."

He was attempting to rip the magic out of her. Tris's body shook with the effort to resist.

"I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as "touched," what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens."

Her mark, this _Anchor_ , exploded with a torrent of magic, bringing Beatrice to her knees. She cradled her hand as the dragon stalked behind her, snapping its jaws.

The Elder one was irate, "And you used the Anchor to undo my work! The gall!"

Tris was slumped in the dirt, she gritted her teeth, "What is this thing meant to do?"

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it." He lunged forward, gripping her arm and violently hoisting her up. Her feet dangled helplessly above the ground.

"I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire _in person_. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused, NO MORE!"

Corypheus brought Tris close to his face. His rage and fury burned her as surely as the fire did. His claws bit into the flesh of her arm, bruising her.

"I have gathered the _will_ to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world."

He was _insane_ , Tris thought.

The Elder one lifted her up higher, his hot fetid breath on her face made her skin crawl. "Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods, and _it was empty_!"

He threw her suddenly, his strength unexpected.

Tris flew through the air and came crashing down on the trebuchet's main platform. She landed hard, her back colliding with the wood and iron with a sickening crunch.

"The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling." Corypheus seethed.

Beatrice stood up, scrambling for any way to defend herself. With no weapons nearby, Tris used the only thing she had left. Magic.

Flame erupted from her finger tips, her arm was sheathed in fire. Holding it up in front of her, she took a shaky breath, as she backed up into the trebuchet.

Corypheus and the dragon crept toward her, "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation... and God... it requires."

Beatrice was taking in jagged gulps of air, her ribs were most definitely cracked or broken. She looked up to the mountain pass, a single flaming arrow blazed a trail in the night sky.

" _Cullen_..." she breathed.

That was the signal... they were above the tree line. Her sacrifice was not in vain.

Corypheus was enraged, "And _you_! I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. _You_. _Must_. _Die_!"

Tris looked around frantically, there had to be a way out.

The trebuchet!

She was right next to the firing mechanism.

 "YOU FIRST!" She bellowed, as she threw a fire ball, igniting the pay load and then kicking the handle out. The chain unwound and the great war machine shuddered to life, as it launched the burning projectile into the dark sky.

It struck true, at the top of the nearby peak.

The Elder one and the dragon both watched it fly.

Tris seized her chance and began to run, clutching her side.

Snow and rock cascaded towards Haven in a deafening roar. The entire mountain was coming down.

As Beatrice sprinted away, the dragon howled in anger. She didn't look back, but felt the rush of air as it took off. Snow and fog pushed her forward, she was losing her balance.

Blindly running, Tris jumped into the unknown. Wood and snow and rock and trees threatened to crush her as everything went dark.

* * *

Cullen heard the thunder of the landslide long before he saw the valley covered in white. The snow hit Haven with such force that great clouds of icy fog filled the sky.

A cheer went up from the survivors, but he could not celebrate as he heard the beast scream as it flew away.

"We must keep going." He shouted to the soldiers. The hour was late and they were moving slowly, due to all the wounded and the civilians.

They had to reach a safe enough distance before first light.

They would need to stop and rest eventually, and the farther he could get them from those _red templars_ , the better.

He had watched the fiery arrow sail through the sky, all his hopes that Tris would find a way back to him, flying with it.

The avalanche had come only moments later, his optimism flickered and died.

 _Could she still somehow have made it out in time_. He didn't dare to hope.

Cullen was following up the rear with a compliment of soldiers when they heard the unmistakable sound of armor clanking, as if the person wearing it were running.

"To ARMS!" He cried.

Each man readied their blades, creating a blockade of flesh and steel. Cullen raised his weapon and waited.

Cassandra's face appeared as she ran towards them.

"At EASE!" He yelled. His elation at seeing her made him think that Tris might be alright. Soon Dorian and Varric were with them as well.

But _she_ was not there. "Where is the Herald?" He demanded.

"She... she was... cut off from us." The seeker began.

"That... beast... cornered her." Dorian said, shaking his head.

Suddenly Cullen snapped, he rushed at the Tevinter, his arm coming up to the man's throat, his armor biting into Dorian's flesh. "WHAT! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER SAFE. TO BRING HER BACK!" He roared.

Cassandra and Varric both tried to pull him off of Dorian.

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE HER!" Cullen raged.

Dorian couldn't speak, Cullen's bracer was choking him. Cassandra finally managed to haul him away.

Gasping for air, Dorian jumped back, behind the seeker.

"That is ENOUGH Commander." She exclaimed.

Cullen fell to his knees in the snow. He was breathing hard and his hands balled into fists. He clenched his jaw and looked up at Cassandra, "You were supposed to GUARD HER!" He accused.

Cautiously, Varric stepped towards him, "There was an explosion, we were thrown too far away. By the time we managed to regroup, the dragon and that Elder one were already on top of her."

Cullen's blood was on fire. "The Elder one had her. You LEFT HER when THAT MONSTER had her!"

"She told us to run. She sacrificed herself so that we could get away." Dorian was rubbing his throat, he would have a nasty bruise. "Do you think ANY OF US wanted to leave her!"

Cullen felt a burning stinging in his eyes. He roughly rubbed his face, "We have to go back. She could still be alive. She could still be _out there_!"

"The entire village was destroyed. The tunnel we escaped through collapsed behind us, we barely made it out alive. I AM sorry Commander. She is gone." Cassandra offered gently.

Cullen stood up and stared her down, "If there is ANY chance that she could be alive, we HAVE to try."

Leliana had appeared from somewhere, "Our first priority is getting these people to safety. Once we have ascertained where we are with supplies and man power, then we can discuss mounting a search party."

He had no choice, he had to agree. Cullen gritted his teeth and moved down the path. His mind was a blur. How could she be gone. _He would not accept this loss._

* * *

It was dark.

Tris opened her eyes slowly. The only light came from the mark on her hand.

She tried to sit up and couldn't help the scream that escaped her lips. There was a gash on her head and she felt wetness when she touched her brow. There was a sharp stabbing pain in her chest.

Trapped under a pile of rubble, she kicked and squirmed out from under it. Her labored breathing echoing in the murky cavern.

Beatrice finally crawled free, grasping a rock to sturdy herself, she pressed her head to the cold stone.

She exhaled and hugged her arms around herself.

She was scared.

Buried under an entire mountain, she had to find a way out. Lifting her hand, her mark illuminated the path before her with a ghostly green light. She slowly made her way forward.

The ground and the walls were paved stone.

 _Are these part of the tunnels under the Temple of Sacred Ashes_ , she wondered.

Her body shuddered involuntarily. She was so cold.

Tris closed her eyes and willed the fire to warm her. Flames licked at her fingers as she moved onward. Alas, her spell was designed not to harm her, and the heat did not touch her skin. She shivered again.

It felt like she had been walking for hours. The only sounds her boots scraping on the stone floor and her pained breathing.

Stopping in the tunnel, she heard voices and saw light ahead.

Beatrice's heart was pounding. "W-wh-who's there." Her teeth were chattering.

A loud pop and then a shriek were the only reply.

Tris saw the rift open and six wraiths flood out. Lifting her hand, she tried to dispel the magic, as she had done countless times before, only it was different this time.

Instead of sealing the rift, it appeared to reverse it.

The monsters were being pulled _back_ into the Fade. With a final death scream, the last shade was destroyed and Tris closed the rift.

The effort sapped all of her remaining energy. She stumbled onward.

The chamber she was in now had an opening to the outside, approaching it cautiously, the wind and snow nearly blinded her. It was dark out still and she was exhausted.

On the mountain, the storm raged on.

Turning back into the cave, she saw that some unfortunate souls had taken refuge here not too long ago.

There were piles of filthy rags and furs, along with some crates and boxes in an old cart. Tris broke open the nearest one, inside was moldy bread and rotten fruit, frozen solid.

Trembling from the cold, she opened the rest of the containers. Mostly it was spoiled food or herbs, but in the last place she searched, she found a package of salted venison. It was frozen but still looked edible.

She heard a sloshing and found a bottle of whiskey too.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tris broke apart some of the crates and made a fire in the corner of the room. She took a long pull from the bottle, letting the alcohol warm her, and set the meat on a rock to thaw.

Crawling under the cleanest of the rags, she bundled herself up on top of the furs.

 _She would just sleep for a few hours_...

* * *

"Must we have fires?" Cullen asked impatiently.

He was concerned that Samson had survived the battle and might be leading the remaining red templars after them. The smoke would give away their position.

"The people are tired and cold." Leliana said, as if that justified it.

He was trying to keep them alive, a little discomfort wasn't too much to ask.

Sunrise encroached upon the horizon, the sky was streaked with red and orange.

Dark clouds cast an aura of foreboding.

Cullen sighed heavily. He hadn't slept a wink. They had made camp a few hours ago but he would have rather kept moving. Cassandra and Josephine had out voted him.

He stood near one of the fires, trying to get warm.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tris, being attacked by that dragon. He saw her being torn apart by claws and teeth. He watched her being swallowed up by the mountain.

Shuddering, he rubbed at the tension in his neck.

"I don't blame you... you know." Dorian had appeared at his side.

"I'm in no mood Tevinter." He growled.

"I'm sorry that I didn't stay with her, that I didn't fight. I wanted to." The mage lamented.

Cullen turned and saw tears in Dorian's eyes. He softened, "I...I  should not have attacked you. I am sorry."

Dorian waved him off, "No... I would have done the same in your position. I should have fought at her side."

The two men stood silently, staring into the flames.

"I am going to go back. If there is any chance she might yet live, I owe it to her to look." Cullen finally said.

"I will go with you." Dorian nodded.

"Count me in too, Curly." Varric added dryly, stepping into the light of the fire.

"And me." Blackwall rumbled, as he walked towards them.

"Us too." Iron Bull nodded, the Chargers behind him, smiling.

Looking up, all of Beatrice's inner circle was there, offering to help search for her. Cullen felt almost hopeful.

He stepped away, intending to find a map of the mountains, when Leliana and Cassandra both accosted him.

"Where do you think you're going Commander?" Leliana scowled.

"I intend to lead a search party. We are going to find the Herald." He would not back down this time.

"Commander... _Cullen_. We are not out of danger yet, the red templars could still be out there. We need to get farther away from Haven. We need you here." Cassandra pleaded.

"And what if Beatrice is hurt or dying. _What does she need_?" He was incensed.

"See those clouds Commander... another storm is coming. Are you really going to abandon all of these people, when the odds of finding the Herald alive are almost nonexistent!" Leliana chided.

"I will not desert her." He said, exasperated.

"If she is alive, she will make for the this pass." Cassandra intoned. "We can continue to move the people forward to safety, as we send scouts back to search for her."

Cullen mulled over what she was saying. "I need to be out looking for her myself Cassandra."

"I know, and you will. Once we put another day between the red templars and ourselves. I swear it Commander, I will help you search for her myself. If she lives, we will find her." Cassandra vowed.

* * *

The fire was still smoldering when Tris opened her eyes. Snuggling down into the rags, she rolled onto her back. Painfully aware of every ache and hurt, she tried to work some healing magic.

This was not her forte.

She placed her hand on her abdomen gingerly. Blue light radiated out from her palm as she gasped. She could feel the bones knitting back together. The process was... unpleasant.

Rolling out of her makeshift bed, she stood, stiff and sore. Her body was still battered and bruised but she could at least walk without crying out in pain.

The venison had thawed and while not the most appetizing meal, it would give her the strength she needed to walk out of these mountains.

Taking another long pull of whiskey, she sighed and kicked the fire out.

The storm outside was still going strong. She didn't know how far from the rest of the Inquisition she might be. There were burning carts and bodies littering the mountain side. She prayed she was heading in the right direction.

The wind was bitter and stung her flesh, snow swirled around her. Tris lifted her arm, trying to shield her eyes from the elements. She was shivering uncontrollably.

Unable to see where she was going, she walked on. The blizzard was intense and tore at her hair and clothes.

There were some trees now, had she gone down towards the valley.

Tris was weary and drained.

A wolf cried in the distance. She hugged herself, trying to stay warm.

Suddenly she saw the remnants of a camp. Reaching it, her hopes were dashed as the embers were cold. No one had been there for some time.

She sighed heavily and moved on. The powder was up to her knees now. The storm did not appear to be letting up. The wolves sounded closer.

* * *

Cullen was exhausted, he had been walking with the refugees all day. Solas had scouted ahead and Leliana had sent ravens out to see if the red templars had been sighted.

They were leagues from Haven now.

Standing on the top of an outcropping of rocks, he looked back at where they had been earlier that morning. The blizzard was chasing them, it seemed. The mountains behind them were dark and stormy.

He ran his hand roughly through his hair, silently praying that Tris was somehow alright.

"Commander, Seeker Pentaghast wishes to see you at the head of the line." The messenger hurried away without waiting for his reply.

Wearily, he jumped down and found Cassandra.

"If this map is accurate, there should be a plateau twenty miles to the north of our position." Leliana was saying as she spread the map on a flat rock. "It is lower in altitude and will provide decent shelter."

"We can camp there while we regroup and plan our next move." Cassandra agreed.

"Good. Once we are settled, I will be heading out to search for Beatrice." Cullen insisted. "I will not be dissuaded."

Cassandra nodded and led him away. "Cullen, I know you hope to find her alive but..."

"Please. Do not say it." He begged.

"We have to be realistic. Even if the Elder one or that dragon didn't harm her, which is unlikely. The odds of her escaping that avalanche are nearly impossible." Cassandra was upset as well.

"Cassandra, I have to believe that she is alright. _If I lose her_..." He was looking off at the gathering storm clouds.

She patted him on his arm, "Then we will search for her until we either find her alive, or recover her body."

It was dark when they finally reached the highlands that Leliana spoke of.

Camp fires and tents began to sprout up as Cullen surveyed a map in his make shift tent/office. Dorian was at his side, even after his abhorrent behavior towards him, he had found the Tevinter to be his greatest supporter in mounting a search party.

He knew the mage cared for Beatrice, and he was willing to set his jealousy aside, if it meant finding her safe.

"If we back track through this pass, we might be able to pick up her tracks." He was saying.

"No, it's been snowing on those peaks all night and day, if she came through there, any trace of her will be long since covered." Cullen sighed.

"She will most likely be coming this way," Solas indicated a natural trail. "It would take her up over treacherous terrain, but it would also be the most direct path out of the mountains."  

Dorian agreed, "She's smart, _our girl_. If she follows that trail, it'll put her a few miles from where we are now."

Cullen marked the spot on the map. "Then that's where we start."

* * *

Beatrice stood behind a great boulder, letting it shelter her from the biting cold wind.

Her hands were numb and she couldn't feel her toes. Her breath hitched as she tried to gather enough strength to conjure a flame.

She had found another camp, abandoned.

She was far above the tree line now.

The storm had died down a bit, fat snowflakes still lazily fell from the cloudy sky, but it was no longer the tempest that she had trudged through all day.

Tris had consumed the last of the venison and whiskey hours ago, and her stomach grumbled as she focused all of her remaining energy on igniting the kindling in front of her.

Suddenly it sputtered to life, but as she lowered it into the ash, the flame died.

She cried out.

Beatrice felt the last of her hope die with it.

She felt the tears freeze on her cheeks.

Looking up at the night sky, she wondered if the Maker was looking down on her, this accident of circumstance that she was, and if he was indifferent to her survival.

Tris pushed herself up, holding onto the rock for leverage.

The snow was up to her thighs now, she could barely walk.

She was soaking wet and frozen. Shivers wracked her body.

The wolves sounded closer, hungry.

Beatrice was moving so slow, her every step, a struggle.

She was nearing a narrow pass and her legs wanted to stop.

Her breath was coming in rattling gasps.

Tris kept falling in the snow, but she trudged on.

As she came around the bend, her heart stopped.

She could see camp fires below, not more than a few miles away.

It was dark, but she saw figures moving against the white snowscape.

They were moving away from her.

She tried to shout.

Her voice was gone.

" _Help... please_." She cried hoarsely. " _I'm here... please_."

She dropped to her knees in the snow bank.

Her shoulders started to shake as she watched the figures get further and further away.

There had to be a way to tell them she was here.

Looking down, her mark glowed.

Beatrice gathered the last bit of her strength and raised her arm, waving the Anchor in the air.

Her knees gave out and she collapsed in the snow, but not before she saw the figures change direction. They were heading for her now.

She lay there, the wind blowing her hair in her eyes, shivering. Her chest burned with the effort to breath. But they were coming for her.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

They'd been trudging through the snow for hours.

It was late and there was still no sign of Beatrice.

"Perhaps she took another path," Cassandra offered.

"The mountain naturally slopes up this way, even if she had not meant to take this path, she would have found herself compelled to do so." Solas argued.

"Then where IS she." Cullen sneered.

"She may be injured and moving slowly," The elf suggested.

Cullen just shook his head. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. They had marched for nearly two days to get this far, Tris might be in the valley still. Tomorrow he would gather supplies and go back for her.

"Let's turn back then. We can start again at first light." He called out.

Dejected and crestfallen, he turned towards their camp.

A gust of wind blew past, chilling him, and he looked over his shoulder mournfully.

His eyes saw a glimmer of something far up the mountain. A green light had appeared, as if someone were waving it.

_Beatrice...._

His heart was pounding.

"THERE! IT'S HER!" He shouted, as he ran through the deep powder.

But the light was gone and when Cassandra was confused he pointed up the slope, "It's HER! She's ALIVE!"

The rest of them started up the mountain again, but Cullen was farther ahead, his fatigue a distant memory.

He reached the pass and looked down, his heart aching. Beatrice was lying in the snow, and she wasn't moving.

"Maker no." He cried as he dropped to his knees.

His hands hovered over her, she was delicate as crystal, what if he hurt her.

Tris shivered and gasped. Cullen scooped her up into his arms without another thought.

She was so cold, he should have given her his cloak, but he lifted her and held her close to him, cradling her like the precious cargo that she was.

"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra said as she finally reached them.

But he didn't stop, he needed to get Beatrice warm.

Cold fingers reached up and brushed his lips gently. "C-c-c-cullen?"

She was alive, nothing else mattered, _she was alive_.

He held her closer, pressing his cheek to her forehead, "Shhhh it's alright love... you're going to be alright." Cullen kissed her head, she looked up at him and smiled weakly. "I've got you now... you're safe... it's going to be alright."


	16. Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe and sound back in their camp, Cullen and Beatrice finally confront their feelings for each other and kiss.

Cullen still had chills from what had happened.

After bringing Beatrice back to the camp, the healers whisked her away and he was left standing empty handed in the snow.

He had spent hours arguing with the other advisors over their next course of action.

But they were at an impasse.

When all hope had seemed lost, Mother Giselle had used an old Chantry hymn to unite what was left of the Inquisition. Her rich voice had pierced the night, and one by one, they had all joined together in song.

Beatrice appeared outside of her tent, she looked fragile and weak. Then as the singing reached a crescendo, every man, woman and child there, had flocked to her, kneeling or saluting.

Tris looked shaken, awestruck.

If people had not thought she was the Herald of Andraste before, there was no doubt she had been sent to them by the Maker now.

He had watched apprehensively as Solas took her aside and spoke with her. When she returned to her tent, Tris looked even more weary than before.

Cullen wanted to, no, he  _needed_ to speak with her.

"The Herald is sleeping. She needs to rest." Mother Giselle insisted.

"Yes, I understand, I only wanted to see if she was alright." Cullen offered meekly.

"She does not need _you_ to check on her. I am here." The woman put an arm up to block his path.

"I only wanted to see her for a moment..." He was becoming irritated.

"It's alright Mother." Tris said weakly.

Mother Giselle gave him a nasty look as she left in a huff.

Cullen ducked inside the tent and awkwardly approached the cot Tris was laying on. His mouth was dry, his palms sweaty. _Maker's Breath!_ What was wrong with him.

"Are you... feeling alright?" He started, nervously.

Tris was bundled up in blankets and had a brazier going on the far side of the tent. She smiled softly "Stiff and sore, but I will be fine. Thanks to you."

He felt the heat rush to his cheeks. The words he had wanted to say to her, fell silent on the tip of his tongue.

Her green eyes blazed as she looked up at him, "I would have surly died out there if you hadn't gone looking for me. _Thank you_..."

"I am... just... That is... I am glad that we found you when we did." Cullen was lost in her gaze.

"Now if only I could get warm." She said, half joking.

Before she could blink, Cullen had taken his cloak off and draped it over her.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he watched her inhale deeply and snuggle into the fur, a look of pure contentment on her face.

She smiled up at him, "But now you'll be cold..."

"You shouldn't worry about me..." He began.

"I like to worry about you..." She said, a sparkle in her eyes.

Beatrice's cheeks were flushed from the fire, but her skin was still an ethereal shade of pale. Her bottle green eyes shone like brilliant gems.

"Is there anything... I can do..." He would die for her.

"Would you... stay with me? For a little while." She asked, sweetly.

His smile lit up the room.

Pulling a chair to her side, Cullen leaned down and tenderly caressed her face. Gently stroking her cheek with his thumb, he murmured, "We were... _I WAS_... so scared that I'd lost you..."

She closed her eyes and leaned into his warm caress. "For a minute there... I think you did."

Cullen stood up, his anger rising, "That _monster_ will not get away with this... We will..."

He looked back at her, and she was fast asleep, her face buried in the soft fur of his coat.

Smiling, Cullen bent down. He smoothed her hair back and brushed her forehead with his lips. He turned to leave, but he did not want to go. He could not bear to have her out of his sight.

Seeing an empty cot in the corner, he lifted it easily and placed it next to hers, impulsively pushing it up to the edge of Tris's bed.

Cullen smirked to himself and lay down, thinking the only way he could be closer to her would be if they were sharing the same bed.

Turning onto his side, he pulled a blanket over himself and looked at her sleeping face.

 _Makers Breath she was beautiful_.

The firelight cast long shadows from her lashes onto her cheeks. Her red lips were parted in a sigh. Crimson waves streaked with gold tumbled around her face. 

Her fingers slipped out from under his cloak and Cullen went to tuck her back into the warmth, but Tris grasped his hand tightly and he would not let go.

They slept like that through the night. Fingers interwoven, heads angled towards one another. Cullen woke as the first rays of sun began to lighten the sky.

There had been no nightmares last night, perhaps he had been too exhausted to dream, or perhaps having her near had kept the demons away.

Kissing her hand, Cullen lovingly tucked it back inside of his cloak.

His eyes lingered on her sleeping form, as he heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Well... _someone_ had a good night." Dorian smirked.

Cullen closed his eyes in annoyance, "What are you insinuating, _Mage_?"

"Oh nothing... just that..." He continued.

"Be very careful what you say next." Cullen growled.

"Commander! _You wound me_... I would never think to besmirch the honor of you or our beloved Herald." The Tevinter gave him a wicked grin.

Cullen sighed. "I have to arrange for the camp to march." Looking back at Tris, he swallowed his pride and turned to Dorian, "Would you stay with her? I do not want her waking up alone."

"Oh _of course_. It would be my _pleasure_." Dorian smiled.

With a last wistful look at Beatrice, Cullen turned and left to find Leliana and Cassandra.

* * *

She was surrounded by warmth.

The smell of sweat and shaving lotion.

Leather and metal.

 _Him_...

The fur from his cloak tickled her nose as she smiled in her sleep.

She was alive because he had not given up on her.

She was safe because he had not given up hope.

Her Lion of Honnleath.

Tris opened her eyes hoping to see blonde curls and a lopsided grin, but instead found Dorian sitting up on the cot next to her, playing cards by himself.

"Dorian?" She yawned.

"Oh good! You're awake... I was terribly worried that some dreadful frost related medical oddity had befallen you and your brain had _rotted away_." He said with a dramatic flourish.

Tris narrowed her eyes and swatted his leg, "Very funny."

Lowering his voice to a gravelly whisper he went on, "Our dear Commander must have been worried too... since he stayed with you all night long."

She looked down at Cullen's cloak, still wrapping her in his affections, and grinned.

Dorian gave her a knowing look and smiled warmly, "You like him. Just admit it."

"Yes... but with this war and now the Elder one to worry about... It's not exactly good timing is it?" She sighed.

He chuckled "Not to mention all that Mage/Templar _nonsense_. But you know... I don't think _HE_ cares. Frankly I think the _ONLY_ thing he really cares about is _YOU_."

Dorian told her how Cullen had to be restrained when their party returned without her. "He wouldn't believe that you were gone. He would have left everyone behind to search for you if Cassandra hadn't convinced him that his duty to the Inquisition came first, and even then you could tell his heart wasn't in it."

Tris smiled as she sat up in the bed.

"That boy is hopelessly in love with you... whether he admits to it or not." Dorian smiled.

"I should... _take him his cloak back_." She said, biting her lip.

Dorian laughed and slapped his knee, her innuendo not lost on him, "That's my girl."

Beatrice found Cullen pouring over a map and making notes as a waiting soldier stood by.

"Make sure you tell Leliana that we will need Solas to give us more than a general direction, if we're to find this so-called fortress of his. And I want a copy of her latest report, without delay."

Tris cleared her throat and Cullen looked up. "That will be all..." The soldier was dismissed.

He was smiling brightly as she stepped inside his tent. "Herald... _Beatrice_. You're awake."

She had his cloak draped over her arm, her fingers still playing with the fur at the collar.

Cullen started towards her, then caught himself and took a deep breath, "I am pleased you are feeling better."

"Still recovering... but thankfully... our healers are much better at knitting bone and tissue back together than I am." She jested, putting a hand gingerly over her ribs.

He began nervously rubbing his neck, "We set up as best we could in Haven, but could never prepare for an Archdemon, or whatever it was. With some warning, we might have..."

Tris mused, "Our escape was... It was close. I am relieved that _you_... that so many... made it out."

Cullen's voice was a whisper, "As am I."

She started to turn away but he reached out and caught her hand.

"You stayed behind... you could have...." His eyes were on fire. Cullen ran his hands down her arms, pulling her close. "I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word."

Tris stared into his smoldering amber eyes and swallowed hard. "Thank you... for... letting me borrow this." She smiled timidly, handing him his cloak.

Cullen chuckled as he took the garment from her, "Josephine nearly choked on her morning tea when she saw me without it." His hands lingered on hers longer than necessary.

"Do you... have a moment?" Beatrice asked. "I thought we could talk... alone?"

"Alone? I mean... of course." He was rubbing his neck again, his cheeks were beginning to turn red.

They both stepped outside into the bright morning sunshine. People were scurrying about, no doubt preparing the camp to move again.

Cullen led her away from the cluster of tents and campfires. They found themselves at a rocky overlook, the valley below covered with new snow.

"It's a... nice day..." He appeared more nervous that before.

"What?" She asked.

"It's... there was something you wished to discuss." Cullen looked down at his feet.

 _This was ridiculous_ , she thought. No more dancing around the subject.

"Cullen... I... I care for you... and I've been thinking about you... well... all the time really." Her words came in a rush. She sighed deeply and looked out at the vista.

"What's wrong?" His eyes searched her face.

"You left the Templars, but do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more? Could you ever... love a mage?" She had butterflies in her stomach.

"I think I already do..." He said softly. "I've often thought of what I might say to you in this sort of situation."

 Tris leaned back on a rock, "What's stopping you?"

Cullen turned to her, his voice a sigh, "You're the Herald of Andraste. We're at war... and you... _I didn't think it was possible_."

He took a step towards her, the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She cocked her head to the side and playfully smirked at him, "And yet I'm still here."

Cullen closed the distance between them, his body only inches from hers. His voice a hot whisper on her cheek, "So you are... it seems too much to ask."

Her heart was pounding as she watched his smile grow, his fingers trailed over her hips.

Cullen dropped his head down, their lips were almost touching, "But I want to....."

He had closed his eyes and pressed her against the rock with his body and then......

"Commander!" a messenger had appeared out of nowhere.

The moment was lost.

Cullen lifted his head and furiously turned to face the man.

"You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report." The ill-timed man said.

"What?" Cullen snarled.

"Sister Leliana's report. You wanted it delivered _without delay_." He offered.

Cullen turned a lethal glower on him.

The poor man's eyes went from his Commander to Beatrice. Understanding finally dawning on him. "Or... to your quarters then... right..." He said backing away.

Tris sighed, "If you need to..."

Her surprised gasp was consumed by his enthusiastic kiss as Cullen turned to her and slid his hands into her hair, pulling her towards him.

His palms came up to each side of her face, gently holding her as their tongues tangled together.

Tris kissed him back passionately, her own hands sliding under his cloak, using the buckles of his armor to pull him closer to her. He pinned her up against the rock.

Finally, his hands slid down her neck, caressing her shoulders, as he breathlessly apologized, "I'm sorry... that was... um... _really nice_."

His eyes were burning with desire while his lips quirked up into a sheepish grin.

Tris couldn't be happier, "I believe... that was _a kiss_... but I can't be sure. It was all such a blur."

Cullen laughed softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, "Yes... well..."

His lips found hers again, more gently this time, as he tipped his head to the side and covered her mouth with his own.

Beatrice didn't know how long they'd been out there, but kissing him was more wonderful than she had imagined. His lips tasted like heaven and she didn't want to stop.

They walked back into camp hand in hand, she felt like everyone was watching them. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she blushed like a school girl.

Cullen turned to her and smiled, "You know you're exquisite when you blush."

Tris bit her lower lip and turned towards him. They were approaching his tent, and she knew he would have work to do that would steal his attention from her. She stopped abruptly, pulling him back to her.

Cullen looked puzzled for a moment, then she stood up on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on his chin.

He beamed down at her, "What was that for..."

"You have duties that require your attention... and I don't want to distract you. So I'll say good bye now, before we're alone and time ceases to exist again." She was nibbling on his lip as she spoke.

He fluttered his eyes, she could feel his desire for her. "What if I want you to distract me?" He purred.

Tris stretched until her lips were at his ear, "I'll be happy to distract you later tonight, but I know a part of you really does want to work." She kissed his ear lobe and released him from her embrace.

Cullen smirked at her, "Until tonight then... My Lady." He gave her a deep bow before entering his tent.

* * *

He thought at some point in the day someone, _probably Cassandra_ , would have called him out for the silly grin that he couldn't seem to wipe off his face. But no one ever did.

He kept thinking to himself... _that actually happened_.

He had kissed her.

And she had kissed him back.

All these months of wanting her and she had wanted him just as much.

He still couldn't believe it.

Cullen slid his hand into his pocket and rubbed the coin his brother had given him, so long ago. _For luck_ he had said... his lips curled into a smile.

He felt like the luckiest man in Thedas.

Solas had spent some time with him that day, mapping out a trail to follow, and while risky, Cullen felt good about their plan. Two more days of rest in camp and then they would make the journey north.

Stepping outside of his tent, he looked up at the clear sky. Stars were just beginning to shine in the darkening heavens, the horizon was still streaked with reds and violets.

He made his way to Beatrice's quarters.

With a newfound confidence, he ducked inside, instantly regretting not announcing himself.

"Maker's breath! Forgive me.... I did not mean to intrude." He stammered.

Tris was standing in her small clothes, with two healers and Dorian tending to her injuries. Her tender white flesh was purpled and bruised all over. She had a nasty cut on her shoulder and lacerations all over her body.

Her arms were outstretched as blue magic swirled around her, the healers were wrapping her in bandages.

Dorian handed her a robe as the healers departed with a bow. "It appears I'm to be sent away again." He said, winking at Cullen.

Tris smacked him on the arm, "Oh stop being dramatic."

Dornan laughed and took her in his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek, while making sure to turn her so that he got a good view. "Until tomorrow my darling."

Cullen gritted his teeth, trying to quell the rising jealousy.

The Mage nodded to him as he left them alone.

"Don't let him bother you," She said, tying the robe closed.

Cullen sighed, trying to let it go.

He was here with her wasn't he. Tris had chosen him, not Dorian.

"I cannot help being jealous when it comes to your affections." He smiled. "I want them all to myself."

"And you're _jealous_ of Dorian?" She giggled.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something that did not sound ridiculous.

Tris came over to him, her hands snaking up through his hair, "Believe me, Dorian is the last person you need to be jealous of."

Having her this close, with only thin silks between him and her skin, he lost his train of thought. His hands gripped her waist and he pulled her to him.

"I had not realized the extent of your injuries." He was concerned that she was in pain.

"They assure me that it looks worse than it is. But they do keep insisting that I rest." She sighed.

"Then I should let you rest." He said, kissing the tip of her nose playfully.

"And I thought we had an evening of distractions planned." She smiled up at him as he lowered his head to claim her mouth. He felt like if he let go of her, he would float away.

"Excuse me Herald..." A servant, clearly embarrassed at what she had interrupted, appeared at the entrance of the tent. The elf was carrying a tray of food.

He tried to step aside, but Tris had her hands in his hair, and he couldn't force himself to pull away. "Just set it there," she nodded. "Thank you."

"You know. People are going to talk, the way we've been carrying on today." He sighed, as the elf left in a rush.

"Does that bother you?" She smiled, lifting the lid from the tray and popping a bit of fruit into her mouth.

Watching her eat might become his new obsession, he was lost in the way her mouth moved and her tongue licked at the juice on her lips. She smirked at him, as she bit into another piece of apple.

He found his heart racing and thought, _she knows exactly what she's doing to me_.

"I would rather my... _our_... private affairs remain that way. But I would regret it more if there was nothing to gossip about." He said finally, taking a chair near her.

Tris came over to him, stepping between his legs, she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I know what you mean."

Cullen sighed, "I am not very... _experienced_... in these... types of situations."

Tris leaned her head onto his shoulder and wove her fingers together with his, "We will just have to find our way together then."

Cullen smiled and put his arms around her, the robe slipping down off of her shoulder, and he saw the discolored bruise there.

His brows knitted together, "Are you in much pain."

"A little." She frowned.

He kissed her shoulder and scooped her up into his arms, "Then you _need_ to rest."

Cullen smiled as he carried her to the bed.

"Very well... but on one condition." She whispered into his ear. "You rest with me."

Still holding her, he kissed her gently, "Alright..." He couldn't have left her if he'd wanted to.

She was snuggling into the blankets, watching him as he moved the extra cot to her side. He pushed them together and gave her a wicked grin, "You know, technically, this won't be the first time we've spent the night together."

Tris bit her lip as she returned his smile, "And it's far from the last time either, I promise."


	17. A Stroke of Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally at Skyhold, Beatrice has been named Inquisitor. Her injuries still healing, Tris and Cullen get some much needed down time. And trip to Ferelden gives them the opportunity to express how they feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long chapter... but it's got some steamy bits... okay... it's just romance and steamy bits... enjoy...

It had been nearly a week since they'd arrived in Skyhold.

The fortress was everything that Solas had promised and more. Here they could build a true force, one that could rival any military in Thedas.

_Here_ , Cullen thought, _he could protect her_.

That morning, Beatrice had accepted the position of Inquisitor.

He couldn't have been more proud of her. He watched as she took the ceremonial sword and held it high, swearing to restore order and defeat Corypheus.

She shone bright and beautiful to everyone that had gathered to watch history being made. He couldn't help thinking that this must have been what it was like to witness the miracle that was Andraste herself.

He had taken one of the forward towers for his office and living quarters, it was centrally located and easily accessible. Besides, it gave him the chance to walk the battlements and observe the training of the recruits whenever he felt like it.

Cullen was busy arranging books and papers when his eyes landed on the box that held his old lyrium kit.

He set it on his desk, planting both hands on either side, and stared at it. He didn't know how long he'd been lost in thought, but he didn't bother looking up when the door opened.

Cullen knew it was Tris.

"As leader of the Inquisition, you..." This was not something he wished to tell her. It was his shame. He couldn't even bare to look at her face, for fear of seeing her disappointment in him.

He took a deep breath and continued, "There is something I must tell you."

"You know you can tell me anything..." Her voice was tense with concern.

Cullen finally looked up at her, "Thank you..." She was watching him thoughtfully. "Right. Lyrium grants Templars our abilities, but it controls us as well."

He opened the box, sneering at the contents within, "Those cut off suffer, some go mad, others die." He sighed heavily, "We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here. But I... I no longer take it."

He heard the surprise in her voice, "You stopped?"

"Yes. When I joined the Inquisition." He was focused on the glowing blue vial on his desk. "It's been months now."

"Cullen... if this can kill you..." _Of course she was worried about him_ , he thought.

His heart ached with how much he cared for her.

"It hasn't yet." He said, determined. "After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't... I will not be bound to the order... _or that life_... any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it."

She patiently waited for him to continue.

"But I would not put the Inquisition... _or you_... at risk. I've asked Cassandra to... watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty." Cullen turned away from her, he did not want to see what he assumed would be disgust on her beautiful face.

Instead, he felt her move next to him, behind his desk. He felt the warm soothing touch of her hand on his arm, "Are you in pain?" She murmured.

He turned to face her, seeing only compassion and kindness in her eyes, "I can endure it." He sighed.

"Thank you for telling me. I respect what you're doing... it cannot be easy." She touched his face with her hand. Her fingers curled inward, they brushed his cheek and sent a shiver through his body.

Taking her hand, he vowed, "The Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen... I will defer to Cassandra's judgment."

Tris stood in front of him, "I trust you implicitly."

"But what if... I am unable to..." He could feel the pull of the lyrium sitting on his desk, he could almost taste it.

She put both of her hands on the sides of his face, turning his gaze upon her. "You can... _you will_... Cullen, you are stronger than anyone I know. We will get through this... together."

Cullen leaned his head down until their brows touched. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. His senses were flooded with scents of her. "I shall try..." He whispered.

Suddenly remembering a report that came in earlier in the day, he stood up and turned around. "Before I forget... I've found where the red templars came from. Therinfal Redoubt."

She leaned her hip onto his desk as he paced the room, "The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over after their corruption was complete." He snarled.

"How do you know Samson?" She wondered aloud.

"He was a Templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the order." Cullen scowled, "I knew he was an addict, but this... red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. It's power comes with a terrible madness."

Tris shook her head, "The red templars swarming Haven were proof enough."

"We cannot allow them to gain strength." Cullen growled. "The red templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them... and their leader."

He was staring out the window, a grimace on his face, thinking about Kirkwall, Samson, Haven... everything, when he felt her gentle hand on his arm again.

"Cullen.... you and Samson seem to have a... personal history. Are you all right?" She prodded.

Sighing, he turned to face her, "When I arrived in Kirkwall, Samson and I shared quarters. He seemed a decent man, at first. Knight-Commander Meredith later expelled him for 'erratic behavior.' He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets."

He could feel his old anger rising, thinking about his past, "He committed further crimes, but managed to evade the Order's justice. Now he serves as Corypheus's loyal general."

"Why do you think he joined Corypheus? Could he really want to see the end of the world?" She said sadly.

Cullen softened at her words, she felt sympathy for Samson, even though he wasn't deserving of it, "He had a chronic lyrium addiction. He spent every last coin buying it from local smugglers. Perhaps Corypheus flattered his vanity, gave him purpose as well as lyrium. Perhaps that's all it took."

Tris looked at the kit still open on his desk, "It sounds like Sampson had a miserable life."

Cullen disagreed, "The Order expelled him, but he had choices. He could have found another path. What I don't understand his how he became so powerful. Even with red lyrium, Samson's glory days are long behind him."

"Well, I will investigate any trade lines that might lead us to his suppliers. With luck, we'll put a stop to Samson and these red templars soon enough." She promised him.

Her smile disarmed him and he realized this was the first time speaking to her since she had become Inquisitor. "Forgive me... I have not yet congratulated you on being named Inquisitor."

"Oh... yes." She smirked. "As if you didn't have a hand in making _that_ happen."

He feigned ignorance, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

He watched her lips curl into a devious smile, "No? Well... Thank you for believing in me, at any rate."

Cullen stepped closer to her, his arm coming up behind her back, drawing her into his embrace. "You've been leading us all this time, without even realizing it. You were meant for this, Tris."

She smiled and looked up into his eyes, "I could not have made it this far without you..."

He dipped his head down, and felt her lips smile as he parted them in a penetrating kiss. There was a knock on the door just then, breaking them from their reverie.

Tris stepped back, "I should let you... get back to work."

* * *

"Your injuries are almost fully healed." The mage said as Tris slipped her shirt back on. "I would say, at least another week of rest and you'll be in fighting shape again."

Smiling as she stepped out into the courtyard, Tris took a deep breath.

Skyhold was a frenzy of activity around her. She made her way into the main hall, and found Josephine speaking with a man in a funny hat.

"Oh! Herald... I mean Inquisitor..." Josie waved.

"Josephine... It's still me." She jested.

The ambassador giggled and turned to the man, "And it will be delivered within the week?"

"Yes my lady." The man nodded.

"Perfect! Thank you." Josie smiled.

"What was that all about?" Tris wondered.

"Oh... nothing." Josephine said coyly.

Rolling her eyes at her friend, they walked into her office. "So... Inquis... _Beatrice_." She began. "You and the Commander have certainly... gotten close."

"Yes... I'm sure everyone knows by now." She smiled, remembering the journey to Skyhold and how Cullen had stayed by her side for the entire crossing.

They had slept next to each other every night, in fact. But Cullen had been the stalwart gentleman, and nothing indecent had occurred, besides a few heated embraces and passionate kisses.

"I think it's adorable." Josie squealed.

For the next hour, she listened to her friend go on and on about love and romance. Finally a messenger arrived to distract Josie, and Beatrice found herself exiting through a side door into the garden.

She smiled as she saw who was playing chess under the gazebo, and strolled over to say hello.

"Gloat all you like... I have this one." Cullen taunted.

Dorian was sitting across from him, leaning back in the chair like the cat who ate the canary. "Are you... _sassing_ me, Commander? I didn't know you had it in you."

Cullen shook his head, "Why do I even..... _Beatrice_!" He stood up abruptly, knocking over several pieces on the board.

_He was so endearing when he got flustered_ , she thought.

Dorian smirked, "Leaving are you? Does this mean I win?"

Cullen turned back to him, contempt shadowing his handsome face.

Tris crossed her arms and smirked at her friend, "Are you two playing nice?"

Dorian winked at her, "I'm _always_ nice." Then he leaned forward, examining the board, "You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You'll feel much better."

"Really? Because I just won. And I feel fine." Cullen stretched his arms out in front of him before leaning back in the chair and smirking at Dorian.

_Now who was gloating_ , Tris thought.

Dorian shook his head and returned Cullen's smile, "Don't get smug. There will be no living with you."

"He's all yours, love." Dorian said softly as he walked by Tris.

Cullen gave her a breathtaking smile, "I should return to my duties as well... unless you... would care for a game?"

Tris beamed at him, "Prepare the board, Commander."

His laugh was warm and enveloping as he set up the pieces.

"I'm happy to see you out of your office." She winked at him.

"Well, I happened to remember some advice that a very wise and beautiful woman once gave me about smiling more," He grinned.

She sat down and couldn't help admiring the view. He looked almost relaxed. His broad shoulders weren't nearly as tense, and his face looked younger somehow.

"As a child, I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck up grin whenever she won... _which was all the time_." His face lit up as he reminisced. "My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won..."

He moved a pawn forward then suddenly became serious as she watched his eyes drift towards the garden. "Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays."

Cullen leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.

"You've never told me about your siblings." She moved her queen's knight.

"Two sisters and a brother." He said decisively.

"Where are they now?" She hoped where ever they were... they were safe.

"They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I do not write to them as often as I should. Ah it's my turn." He leaned forward, his hands coming together under his chin in concentration.

They had been quietly absorbed in their game for some time when Cullen leaned back and smiled at her. "I am glad you decided to play. I appreciate the distraction."

Tris laughed softly, "I would be quite happy to offer you a distraction whenever the opportunity presents itself."

His grinned back at her, "I would... like that."

Cullen reached over and covered her hand with his own. Giving it a squeeze, he smiled sweetly, "We should... finish our game. Right. My turn?"

They silently moved their pieces across the board until finally Cullen sat back and gave her a smoldering look, "I believe this one is yours. Well played. We shall have to try again sometime."

"That would be lovely." She said, standing up and stretching.

Tris walked behind him and slid her hands down his chest, kissing his neck from behind.

He pulled her into his lap and she ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling the carefully arranged curls. "I had been meaning to ask you, have you been to the healer recently?"

She looked into his honey eyes, "Actually yes. Just before our game in fact. She said that in about a week, I should be well enough to get back to work."

"Then you have some time..." He mused.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nibbled on his lip, kissing the scar that she found so delicious. "What did you have in mind?"

"We have some dealings in Ferelden. I was hoping you might accompany me." He said with a grin.

"Of course. How could I say no?" She had moved to his ear, her tongue darted out and she lightly dragged his earlobe down with her teeth. Tris took great pleasure in the shudder that went through him.

He cupped her face in his palm and brought her lips to his, "Good. Then I will make the necessary arrangements."

* * *

They'd met with his contact in Redcliffe and were continuing on to their _actual_ destination, a lake near where he'd grown up. They'd made good time. The roads that the Inquisition had cleared and maintained had shaved days off of their journey.

The soldiers were setting up the camp when he took Tris by the hand and invited her for a walk. The morning was foggy and damp, but this place smelled like home to him.

"Where are we?" She asked him with a playful grin.

He led her to the end of the dock, the green water gently lapping at the wood sending ripples across the surface.

"You walk into danger every day. I wanted to take you away from that. If only for a moment." He was leaning against a post as he watched her face. Tris gave him a devastating smile.

"I grew up not far from here," he said softly, "This place was always quiet."

"Did you come here often?" She asked.

Cullen sighed, "I loved my siblings, but they were very loud. I would come here to clear my head." He laughed in spite of himself, "Of course, they always found me eventually."

"You were happy here?"

Cullen took her hand, "I was... I still am."

The mist was drifting over the water, giving everything a dreamlike quality. The wind gently lifted her hair, loose tendrils blowing across her face.

He drew her closer to him, "The last time I was here was the day I left for Templar training. My brother gave me this. It just happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck."

Cullen looked at the well worn coin in his hand. An image of Andraste, being consumed by flame started back at him. "Templars are not supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through."

Tris gave him a wicked grin, "You broke the orders rules? I'm shocked."

He shook his head and laughed, "Until a year ago, I was very good at following rules. _Most of the time_."

She leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his body. He could feel her heat through the thick velvet of her cloak. "This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the Templars didn't give me."

Cullen kissed her head and placed the coin in her palm, "Humor me... We don't know what you'll face before the end. This can't hurt."

Tris closed her hand around his lucky charm and slid her arms around him, "I'll keep it safe."

He smiled and pressed his forehead to hers lovingly, "Good. I know it's foolish, but... I'm glad."

She raked her fingers through his hair as he kissed her. Breathless, he pulled away and grinned, "I want to show you something else... come on."

Beatrice picked her way through the crumbling ruins toward a hole in one of the walls. Time and the elements had worn the stones to a smooth finish and the damp air left everything a bit slippery.

She could see the drop off just beyond the grassy knoll on the other side of the wall. The lake was shimmering in the light from the afternoon sun. The morning fog had burned off and big white clouds lazily drifted across the blue sky.

It was so peaceful amid the bird sounds and the swaying of the trees and grasses. She could see the smoke from the Inquisitions camp rising up on the other side of the water.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She felt him before she heard him. He was right behind her, his hand came to rest on her shoulder. His mouth close to her ear.

His words were a deep rumble in his chest "Do you like it here... I thought... you might like it."

She leaned back into him and he slipped his arms around her waist. She opened her eyes and smiled "I love it."

His head dropped down to playfully nip her ear, he nuzzled her neck and kissed her throat. "I had hoped that you would find the same serenity that I had here."

"Thank you... for sharing this with me." She held his hands in front of her, winding her fingers through his.

Cullen remembered the pack he'd brought and pulled out a bottle of West Hill Brandy. The smile she gave him made his heart sing and he returned it with a wolfish grin.

Tris spread out a blanket in a grassy area sheltered from the wind while he arranged some firewood. "Blasted damp has soaked into everything. I'll be named Black Divine before I get this lit."

She tried to hide her amusement, "then get that bottle opened while I do it."

"While you do it? Madam you wound my pride" he tried to look offended but her smile disarmed him.

He took the bottle from her and started on the wax seal.

She gave him a devilish wink and then fire began to dance in her hand.

Cullen paused... _she was a mage_... _but he had left the order_. He had to stop thinking like a Templar.

And it didn't matter. He loved her more than he thought possible...

He knew she was powerful and he worried constantly that demons would be drawn to her magic, but she was one of the most gifted mages he had ever known. He had to trust that she would be alright.

The fire was crackling merrily as they sipped the brandy and he cut slices of apples for them.

She was sitting so close, but he wanted her closer.

Tris had rested her head on his shoulder. His heart was pounding, he was sure she could hear it.  She sighed and snuggled closer to him, Cullen put his arms around her.

She was playing with the fur on the edge of his cloak absentmindedly. He thought for sure he would wake up and find this all to be a dream.

She shifted herself ever so slightly, her arms winding around his middle.

Tris had her head on his chest now.

He pulled her closer.

" _Cullen_...." she murmured.

She had tipped her chin up to look at him. Her eyes were glassy from the alcohol but she smiled and spoke softly "thank you for... today."

He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Orange blossoms and vanilla. Wood smoke and magic.

He was completely bewitched by her. From the moment that he'd first laid eyes on her, something had drawn him to her. He couldn't explain it. He'd never felt like this about... _anyone_.

It didn't matter that she was a mage and he a former Templar.

That he had once been warned about this very temptation.

She wasn't his charge... and she wasn't going to suddenly turn into some dangerous maleficarum.

Tris was what the Maker had made her. Being a mage didn't define her, it was just one part of who she was.

_And she was his_...

He slid his hands down her back and pulled her up to him.

" _Tris_ "

He whispered her name like a prayer.

She sighed softly and he could hold back no longer. He claimed her mouth in a heated rush. Parting her lips with his tongue, he kissed her with abandon.

She wound her arms around his neck as he rolled them back.

He was laying on top of her, one arm cradling her head as his other hand sought the clasp of her cloak.

She was breathless when he stopped to speak. "Tris... I... I hope you know..." he couldn't find the words to tell her how he felt. _He was no good at this_...

Cullen brushed her cheek with his fingers and kissed her again, his lips pressed to hers with urgency.

Her hands found their way into his hair... she was driving him crazy

He nuzzled her neck and left a burning trail of kisses all along her collar and jaw line.

She nibbled on his ear, her hot breath tickling him.

He couldn't get enough of her mouth. She was sweet, like candy, to his soul.

Cullen kissed her with a passion that he did not know how to satisfy. Well... _he knew_... but he would not do that here. She was a lady... _His Lady_. This place was not suitable for such things. Yet they were frantic, trying to touch every part of each other at once.

Her hand slid down his stomach and found his erection. He could not help the groan that escaped him as she firmly stroked it through his pants.

This was too much. It was unworthy of her.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly. "Tris... we can wait."

Her eyes were mesmerizing. "Are you sure..."

_Could she want this as much as he did_?

No, even if that were the case, it wasn't the right moment.

"It's getting late... they'll be missing us by now" he said halfheartedly.

"Still following the rules, I see." she smiled a wicked smile and it almost made him lose his resolve.

"Oh if you only knew what I was thinking right now... you wouldn't tease me so." He wanted to tear her clothes off and take her here and now... to ravish her until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

Tris grinned and stood up to shake her hair out. Her crimson locks had been tangled by the wind... and his hands. He loved her long hair.

She bent low, giving him a lovely view of her breasts as they heaved with her every breath. The corset she wore, accentuating her delicate waist... he wanted to rip the laces out with his teeth.

She was biting her lip and moving her hand up his thigh, but just as her fingers brushed his hard flesh, she reached for her cloak instead.

"Ooooooh sweet temptress, you are playing with fire."

Cullen shot up and swallowed her surprised gasp with his kiss.

He pushed her against the smooth stone wall, pinning her with his body.

Her hands were back in his hair.

"Sweet Maker... we must... stop... before... we..." he managed to say between blistering kisses.

Cullen had buried himself in her neck. His tongue playing with her pulse points. He scraped his teeth against her smooth skin and she shuddered. His hot mouth greedily trailing over every inch of her that he could reach.

When a throaty moan escaped her lips, he nearly lost himself.

He was undone, he wanted her now.

This wasn't what he had planned when he brought her here, and it wasn't how he envisioned their making love for the first time, but he was past the point of caring.

She was all he could see... she was all he wanted.

_All he ever wanted_.

Tris hitched a leg around his hip and ground into him.

He growled...

She rocked her hips, rubbing herself on his erect cock. He knotted his hand in her hair and groaned. Sliding a hand under her dress, up her thigh, he pressed her body into the stone, his hand caressing her bare bottom.

_No small clothes_...

He could feel the smile on her lips as he continued to pepper her with affection.

" _Naughty girl_ " he whispered.

His fingers found her wet and eager.

His own need throbbed to be inside of her.

He slid his hand down the nape of her neck and gently tugged on her hair, she tilted her head back without protest and he showered her throat with molten kisses.

He slowly stroked her, tracing circles around her core. She was slick and ready for him.

Tris was making little whimpering sounds of pleasure. Her sighs stroking him as surely as her hands could.

Cullen was going to go mad if he didn't fuck her soon.

Pulling the hard length of him free, he rolled his hips forward, his cock teasing both of them with the light friction.

She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face in the fur of his cloak.

He griped her naked thigh again, lifting it up higher, and with one sure stroke, sheathed himself completely in her silken wetness.

A cry fell from her lips as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. He loved the way her lashes fluttered and her eyes rolled back as she gasped with each thrust.

Her hands were in his hair again, ruffling his golden curls. He kissed her throat and nipped her earlobe. His hot tongue sliding over her skin. She moaned and whispered his name.

He crushed her against the wall, each time pushing himself deeper into her.

Groans of pleasure and need poured out of him like water.

He was losing himself in her.

They were lost together.

Cullen snaked an arm behind her as she arched her back. He slid his hands under her arse and lifted her. Tris looped her other leg around him, her thighs squeezing him tight. His arms came around her like a steal cage, and he lifted her in time with his thrusts.

She was licking his neck, her searing tongue darting out and lapping at his most sensitive spots. Tris sucked on his thrumming pulse, grazing his skin with her teeth.

He growled again and claimed her mouth. Sucking on her tongue, caressing it with his own.

They breathed the same breath.

Her fingernails scratched his scalp lightly, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. She tugged on his curls and tilted his head back, nuzzling his neck.

Her moaning was louder now, her eyelashes fluttered erratically and her head was thrown back.

Cullen pushed her to the point of breaking then slowed himself to a steady rhythm.

His body cried out for release.

Tris was gasping, her body shuddering with her climax.

Cullen worked his hips faster. He crushed his mouth to hers and devoured her cries of passion.

His own orgasm finally dropping him to his knees, he held onto Tris as the waves of pleasure ripped through him. They collapsed together on the soft blanket, her body falling onto his.

Cullen sat up, his back against the wall, with Tris in his lap, straddling him. Her skirts swirled around their legs, covering them like a blanket. He held her against his broad chest, as if she belonged nowhere else.

She had her head on his shoulder, her panting breath, hot on his skin. He ran his thick fingers through the tangles in her hair.

"You are.... I have never felt _anything_ like this." He sighed, holding her close.

Tris sat up, her green eyes sparkling, "I love you. You know that right?"

"I love you, too." Cullen smiled, kissing her tenderly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I never expected to find this... or _you_... with the Inquisition." He murmured. "I did not think that part of my heart existed any longer."

Tris sat up and caressed his cheek, "Yet.. here we are..."

"Yes... _here we are_..." Cullen closed his eyes as he kissed her again.

She smiled against his lips, her voice low and husky, "When you kissed me that day in the mountains, how long had you wanted to do that?"

He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, "Longer than I should admit."

She kissed him on the cheek and laid her head on his shoulder again, playing with the fur of his cloak.

"Truthfully, it was not the first time I had kissed you." He confessed awkwardly.

Tris lifted her head abruptly, her mouth open in a surprised smile, "What?"

Cullen smoothed her hair back from her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheekbone, "I'm afraid I must beg your forgiveness. The day before you left for Val Royeaux... I brought something to your room... I was distracted... and I did not knock."

She narrowed her eyes at him warily.

"You were asleep. You were... calling my name in your sleep." Cullen's voice was thick with longing.

"I was... dreaming of you?" She sounded amazed.

"I.... I couldn't stop staring... I knew it was wrong... and... _I didn't care_." He whispered. "I was inexplicably drawn to you... and _you kept calling my name._ I was weak.... I kissed you... without your permission." Cullen spoke softly, his confession not lifting the guilt he still carried.

She met his gaze with fire in her eyes, "I think... _I think I remember_. I thought I was dreaming..."

"When you opened your eyes... my heart stopped." He murmured.

Tris smiled, "Ever since I was little, I have had this recurring dream. My mother used to read me a story about a princess who gets cursed by a witch and is destined to sleep for a thousand years. Only true love's kiss can break the spell."

Cullen's heart was racing. She was still nestled in his lap, his arms were made to hold her. "When I got older, I would dream that _I_ was the princess, and the prince who rescued me didn't really have a face. He was all shining armor, steely blue eyes and flowing blonde hair."

He laughed softly, "Steely blue eyes?"      

The desire dripped from her words like honey, "Now my prince has eyes of gold."

The heat that was coiling in his belly threatened to consume him. Cullen crushed her to his mouth, he pushed her lips apart and slid his tongue inside. Out of breath, he broke the kiss suddenly, "I should tell you... there was one other time..." He wanted no secrets between them.

Laughing, she shook her head and smirked at him, "Was I asleep for this one as well?"

Cullen sighed heavily, "It was... after Redcliffe."

Tris was not smiling anymore.

"The night Dorian brought you back to Haven... you were.... _not well_." He began.

She inhaled sharply, "Call it what it was... I was foolish and had overdosed on lyrium."

He brought a hand up to caress her cheek, "Yes, but you had your reasons. It was not your fault."

She grimaced and looked away. He turned her back to him, "You were upset and delirious. I had just given you a draught to help you level out.... and _you kissed me_."

Her eyes were shining, "I... _I don't remember_."

"I know... but... it was... _wonderful_." He breathed.

Tris leaned forward as if she were going to kiss him, but pulled back abruptly, " _Wait_... you said you'd _just_ given me a draught. _Oh Cullen_. I'm so sorry."

His eyes dropped and blood thundered in his ears, the memory of _that kiss_ would burn inside of him until the day he died. "The lyrium... yes.... I will not lie. It was part of the thrill."

Tris looked crestfallen.

"No... that is not..." He swore. "This sounded better in my head. _You_ were the reason I found the kiss... so... _stimulating_. The lyrium was... it was on your tongue and then _your tongue was on my tongue_."

Cullen sighed, he was not sure he was explaining this adequately, but at least Tris did not look upset anymore. "It had been my first taste of lyrium in months, and it was mingled with the taste of _you_. I was tempted to the point of madness that night."

She brought her face close to his, her hands on either side, "I am so sorry. You know I would never consciously subject you to such a thing."

Cullen kissed her lightly, "I know."

She smiled sweetly and lifted herself off of him, kissing him as she pulled away. She sucked on his lower lip, scraping it with her teeth just a little as she finally stood up. He felt himself stirring with desire.

She walked over to where the bottle of brandy had been forgotten and took a long pull.

Cullen smiled and stood, reaching her in one long stride. He put his arms around her, taking the bottle as she offered it. He buried himself in her hair, holding her tightly, breathing her in.

She was tugging the cloak off of his shoulders and kissing his neck. Cullen laughed softly as Tris pulled at the heavy material.

"So eager to go again _my love_..." He smiled into her lips as he took her by the tongue once more.

He reached around her, pressing her into his body, letting her feel how much he wanted her, and took a hold of the laces on her bodice, working them loose.

Tris stepped back and slid out of her dress, standing before him in a thin silken slip. Her eyes were ablaze with need and longing.

Cullen groaned with desire and grasped her in a passionate embrace. In between heated kisses he lifted his cotton shirt over his head. She raked her nails across his back, a guttural sigh escaping his lips.

They tumbled onto the blanket. Tris tugged at his breeches and he pulled her down onto him. He rolled her suddenly, pinning her beneath his solid body.

He slid his hands over the silken material and found the tie at the back. The thin straps fell from her shoulders, exposing her to him completely.

It was her turn to moan now, as he ran a hand along the curve of her breast, gently rolling her pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She tilted her head back and gasped.

Cullen slowly pulled the slip over her head and laid her back onto the soft blanket. She looked up at him, her eyes seemed lit from within. She was beyond beautiful.

Her body was smooth and taut, lean muscles forged in training and combat. But Tris was still soft and supple where it counted, her breasts were full and luscious, her hips flared out into an hourglass figure. Her arse was round and firm. The patch of auburn curls covering her sex glistened with her desire.

Bruises from her escape from Haven had all but faded. He ran his thumb gently over her brow, where a thin scar marred her porcelain skin. She had other, faded scars as well. He wanted to trace each one with his tongue.

Tris arched her back, trying to touch him, but he was hovering just out of reach. He roughly pulled his breeches down, lowering himself between her legs.

Cullen could not hold back the moan that touching her unclothed skin elicited. His naked torso pressed into her bare breasts, his hands hungrily grasped at her fevered skin. Tris slid her fingers up his neck and into his hair.

He leaned forward, his tongue slithering up her throat. She arched her back again and this time he relished the heat and the friction between them.

Her mouth was at his ear, hot breath stoking his passion. " _Cullen_...." She pleaded, " _Don't tease me_."

His laughter rumbled deep in his chest.

Tris dragged his earlobe down with her teeth and hissed, "I want you... to _.... f_ _uck me_. Right. _Now_."

He almost came at her words alone.

Cullen positioned himself between her hips and entered her, groaning and shuddering with the pleasure of it. Tris brought her knees up, allowing him to go deeper.

He was pressing her into the soft ground, buried in her neck. Her panting gasps coming in time with his own. Cullen had wanted to take his time, but he was so out of practice, he didn't think he would last long, especially with her whispering in his ear.

He felt her tighten around him, her hips started bucking and he rode her harder, his own release not far behind. Tris was crying out, panting, gasping, moaning. The sounds she was making were enough to push him over the edge. A harsh groan fell from his lips.

They lay there together in the afterglow, she was nestled tightly against his body. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees and left dappled patches of light on the grass.

Cullen reached out and draped his cloak around her shoulders as she snuggled into his arms. "Tris... I want you to know... I did not plan this... when I brought you here."

She tipped her face up to look into his eyes, smiling, "Even if you had... I wouldn't be upset. How could I be... after... _that_."

He kissed her head and laid back, completely sated. His lips curled up in a grin, "Yes... _well_."

Tris rolled onto her side, coming up on one elbow, her other hand tracing the faded scars that crisscrossed his chest, "Cullen... I love you. This... _all of this_... was exactly what we needed."

His hand caressed her cheek and he lifted his lips to kiss her, "I love you too. Despite this war and Corypheus, I cannot imagine my life without you."

"We will have to... do things... like _this_... more often." She sighed, "I know that we're both doing important work with the Inquisition, but we have to promise each other... I don't want to lose you."

Cullen drew her close, "You're not going to lose me. Once I agonized over what was right and what I wanted, but I see that the two are not mutually exclusive. I will not allow us to be torn apart, not after everything we have come through to get here."

He looked up at her face, the sun making a halo of her red hair, and he was dazzled by her. She was the woman of his dreams and he had finally been able to show her how he felt.

Tris was idly stroking his curls when he grasped her wrist lightly. Turning her hand so he could see her mark, he pressed his lips to it. "Nothing will keep us apart, not duty or destiny...or..."

"Or ancient Tevinter magisters hell bent on destroying the world..." She smirked.

Cullen laughed, a sound he was fast getting used to with her around, " _Especially_ ancient Tevinter magisters hell bent on destroying the world."


	18. Right Between The Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke comes to Skyhold. The Inquisitor and The Champion talk of Corypheus and Anders...  
> Cullen and Tris get... interrupted by Captain Rylen. But before she leaves for Crestwood, they spend some time private together in her rooms...

Tris stood on the battlements... the wind buffeting her hair around her face. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to meet Varric's friend.

Skyhold had been buzzing with speculation over who he had brought to help the Inquisition and if certain people were right, Cassandra might _indeed_ kill him.

She approached Varric, who had an uncharacteristically sheepish look on his face. He was obviously nervous and kept rubbing his neck. Tris sidled up to where he was standing, overlooking the training yard down below. "Hey Varric..." she began, "you wanted to introduce me to someone..."

He laughed bitterly, "If I thought there was any way to keep her out of this... I would."

" _Her_?" Tris's eyes followed Varric's gaze as he looked up and they watched a woman confidently descended the stairs. She had brilliantly blue eyes and dark hair that curled at the ends. She was beautiful, Tris thought, with a delicate nose and full pouty lips.

The woman walked with a self-assured and lithe gait that reminded Tris of a dancer.

Varric's eyes crinkled with pride and a smile lit up his entire face, "Inquisitor... may I introduce The Champion of Kirkwall... Elena Hawke."

The Champion gave him a wry smile. "Varric... you know I like my name _before_ my title... makes me sound... more... _regal_." Hawke winked at Tris, extending her hand, "I've heard a lot about you Inquisitor... almost all of it good."

Beatrice returned the smile warmly, "Thank you for coming... Varric had assured us you were _unreachable_."

Hawke and Varric shared a knowing look, "Yes well, I _suddenly_ remembered where she was. And besides, I thought you two might have a friendly chat about Corypheus, we did fight him after all."

Tris couldn't blame him for wanting to protect his friend, if half the stories about Hawke were true, anything connected, even remotely, to the Chantry, would most likely make her suspicious.

Hawke shook her head "We fought and killed Corypheus. You've already dropped half a mountain on top of him, I'm not sure anything I could add would be helpful."

"Anything you might be able to tell us about him could be useful." Tris prompted.

With a heavy sigh, Hawke turned towards Beatrice, "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to control them."

"Corypheus got into their heads, messed with their minds. Turned them against each other." Added Varric.

"If the Warden's have disappeared, they could have fallen under his control again." Hawke worried aloud.

"If that is what's happened to them, do you think it's possible to free them?" Tris asked her.

"It may be... _possible_. If that's what's happened. We'll need to find out more before we can do anything. I have a friend in the Warden's. He was investigating something... unrelated... for me." Hawke said, Tris noticed she seemed wary to share any specific details.

"I'm not looking to get you into trouble, you _can_ trust me." Tris smiled. Hawke looked to Varric who nodded and grinned back at his friend.

"His name is Stroud. He was worried about corruption in the ranks of the Wardens. I haven't heard from him in a while." She looked worried.

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks. Did Stroud disappear with the others?" Varric wondered.

"No." Hawke smirked. "He told me he would hiding in an old smugglers cave near Crestwood."

"Wait, if you didn't know about Corypheus, what were you having him investigate?" Tris asked.

Hawke looked tired, "The Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange kind of red lyrium. I'd hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it."

Beatrice blanched, "We've encountered this red lyrium. Corypheus has been using it to corrupt Templars and turn them into his slaves."

"Well hopefully my friend can tell us more. It would seem this is all connected." Hawke said softly.

"I appreciate the help." Tris smiled.

Hawke barked out a sharp laugh, "I'm doing this as much for myself as for you. Corypheus is my responsibility. The Warden's used _my father's blood_ in a ritual to seal him inside his prison. I thought I'd killed him once before. This time, I'll make sure of it."

Varric gave Hawke a sympathetic pat on the arm then left the two of them alone. Tris watched The Champion of Kirkwall as she nervously played with a loose buckle on her armor.

"I don't bite," Tris smirked, " _hard_."

Hawke laughed, "So what else did you want to know."

"I assume Varric's been feeding you information about the Inquisition..." Tris started.

"He's had only good things to say, I promise. I believe the exact phrase was _has a good shot of fixing Blondie's mess_." She smiled softly.

" _Blondie_?" Tris raised her eyebrows.

Hawke smiled, blushed even, "Anders. Blondie was Varric's nickname for him. He left Kirkwall with me when... well... _after_... you know. We had heard there might be an exalted march on the city to put down the rebellion. We thought that by leaving, it would save lives and we could force the Divine to divide her forces to hunt for us."

Beatrice leaned forward on the half wall, Hawke joined her. "What was he like?" Tris gently prodded.

"Anders was... is... _complicated_." She said sadly. "It's not like the minstrels make it out to be. He's not just a monster or a hero. Or maybe he's both. He was trying to change the world. He knew it couldn't happen peacefully."

"Why isn't he with you now?" Tris wondered.

"If it were anyone but the Wardens and the Chantry involved in this mess, he would be." She sighed. "It was hard enough getting him to stay behind, but now that Corypheus is involved. I'm glad. I saw him affect Anders once, I do not want to see it happen again."

"You love him then, despite what happened in Kirkwall." Tris smiled wistfully.

Hawke blew out a hard breath, "I do love him. He's a deeply troubled man, but he's _my_ deeply troubled man. Besides, I knew who was here with you, and I'm not letting Seeker Pentaghast or Sister Nightingale within 100 leagues of him."

Tris admired Hawke's fierce loyalty when it came to her lover.

"Ander's is... waiting for me... _somewhere safe_." Hawke sighed. "Hopefully, Justice will let him have _some_ peace while I'm gone."

"Justice?" Tris said, "So it's true then... he was an abomination."

Hawke was looking off into the distance, "Yes, and no. It's... _complicated_." Clearly this topic pained her.

"And your family?" Tris changed the subject.

"I had Avenline take my brother far away as soon as I heard there were problems with the Wardens. They've seen enough trouble because of me." She said, her voice heavy with regret.

Suddenly Hawke stood up and backed away from the edge of the rampart. Tris looked down, trying to see what might have alarmed the woman.

Cullen was striding across the training yard, head down, probably reading a report. Tris was confused for a moment, then it hit her. Cullen had been the Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall Templars. Hawke would have known him, and Cullen would have certainly recognized her.

Tris turned around and tried to sound reassuring, "It's alright. Cullen is the Commander of our forces here. He's not after you."

Hawke was wringing her hands together anxiously, "If he knew I was here, that might change. He let us go once, but Varric only thinks it's because he knew he couldn't win in a fight against me and my companions."

Tris laughed, her smile disarming Hawke, who laughed as well. "At any rate, I should go. I'll meet you in Crestwood and hopefully Stroud will have answers for us both."

* * *

"Hawke was here?" Cullen asked incredulously. "In _Skyhold_."

Tris just nodded, the breeze blowing the loose tendrils of her hair into her eyes. She was biting on her thumb nervously, Cullen tried not to let it distract him.

"Why did no one think it might be important to tell me." He grumbled, looking out into the snowy valley.

"Would you have tried to stop her from leaving?" She asked.

"Of course!" He shouted.

"And _that's_ why we didn't tell you she was here." Tris smirked.

Cullen closed his eyes, trying to calm himself before he lashed out at the woman he loved. When he opened them again, Tris was sitting cross legged on the half wall, twirling her hair between her fingers. He chuckled and walked over to her, his anger evaporating. There was no point in arguing with her.

"I'm leaving to meet her in _Crestw_... in Ferelden." Tris winced, looking at him with one eye squeezed tight. Her face scrunched up.

"Oh... so now you won't even tell me where you're going?" He scoffed half-heartedly.

Tris hopped down and looked up at him. "Crestwood. We're meeting Hawke in Crestwood."  

He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Knowing where she would be in danger was no better than not knowing.

"Hawke's not dangerous. She's trying to help us." Tris began.

"But that... that _Mage_ is! He's an _abomination_. What he did in Kirkwall..." Cullen closed his eyes and suddenly he could hear the screaming. His nose filled with the acidic smell of smoke and burning flesh.

Her soft hand on his cheek snapped him back to the present.

"Anders isn't with Hawke." She assured him. "He's.... somewhere else."

"And you won't tell me..." Cullen griped.

" _Because_ I don't know. I don't even think Varric knows." She assured him.

Cullen sighed. He wasn't really upset that Hawke was back in his life. She had done more for Kirkwall than anyone else he had known, and if she could help the Inquisition, well then he would welcome her aid. He was annoyed that everyone had just _assumed_ he would be upset.

"She may have valuable information about Corypheus." He agreed. "But if you'll forgive the insubordination... _Inquisitor..._ I'd like you to take Cassandra with you." He added with a grin.

"You really think that's wise? I already had to stop her from murdering Varric once this week... I don't know if I can manage it again." She laughed.

He ran his hands down her arms, pinning her wrists at the small of her back, "Do try, Love. I'm sure we'll need that Dwarf again before this is over."

Tris smiled up at him, her green eyes sparkling mischievously.

Cullen dipped his head down and kissed her, she tried to pull her hands free, but he held her in an iron grip. Tris made a whimpering noise but he just smiled against her lips. "You're not the only one who can tease..."

He felt her return his smile as she playfully bit his lip. Cullen deepened the kiss, he could feel himself hardening at kissing her and the friction pressing himself up against her was causing.

She could feel it too.

He trailed a hot line of kisses up her jaw, stopping at her ear, "Do you have to leave... _right away_?"

Tris was bent back, her hips jutting into his body. She rocked them, making him shudder. He was ready to pull her bodily into his office and carry her up the ladder to his bed if need be.

"I _should_ go..." she whispered into his ear.

He growled, "I'm afraid I can't let you go without a... proper... _debriefing_."

Cullen released her wrists and wound his arms around her before she had a chance to get away. He lifted her in a bear hug, and stepped back towards the door of his office. Her jovial laugher filled the air.

"I must insist." He smiled, pulling her through the doorway. Tris had her head thrown back in a fit of giggles. But when they entered the room, someone else was waiting for him.

"Commander Cullen?" Captain Rylen said, his lips curving up into a smile.

Cullen swallowed hard, letting his grip on Tris loosen. She didn't move. "Rylen?" He spluttered.

"Yes Ser, you had sent for me? I can... come back... if... you're... _busy_." The Captain said with a wink.

He set Tris down and tried to compose himself. He was new to love and the silly things it made one do. But her arms were still around his neck, and she stood up on her tip toes and kissed his ear, "I'll be back before you know it."

Tris nodded to his second in command as she left the room. "Captain, always a pleasure."

"Quite the _firecracker_ you've got there, Ser." Rylen chuckled as the door shut behind her.

Cullen found himself smiling in response. "Yes... She is... _I do_."

Rylen gave him a big grin, "I've got one of my own, so I completely understand. It's funny how these things happen when you're least expecting it."

"I didn't know you were married Captain." Cullen relaxed at the easy conversation that Rylen offered. It was nice to speak of normal life, for a change.

"Not married yet." Rylen said with a laugh, "But I'll make her my wife one day soon enough."

Cullen smiled at his Captain. Rylen had been with him since Kirkwall. He was a good man, a good soldier. Like him, he had been a Templar, and joined the Inquisition at his behest.

Rylen had also joined him in foregoing lyrium. He felt a solidarity with the man, and found himself invested in his friend's happiness.

"One day soon. I like the sound of that." Cullen smiled. "Is she back in Starkhaven, your _firecracker_?"

Rylen let out a boisterous laugh, "No no. My Nikki is right here in Skyhold. She's one of the mages who came to us after Haven was destroyed."

"Ah, Nicole Penrose. She is quite gifted with her healing magic and potion craft." Cullen recalled.

Rylen was grinning from ear to ear, "That's my Nikki, yes."

Cullen was riffling through parchments looking for the reason he had asked Rylen to see him when the Captain leaned one hip on the edge of the desk and whistled. "And your lass, the _Inquisitor_ herself."

"Yes. It was... most unexpected." Cullen remarked thoughtfully.

"It always is isn't it." Rylen joked. "One day you're fighting the demons raining down from the sky and the next you're sneaking off to kiss the prettiest mage you've ever laid eyes on."

Cullen laughed and shook his head. It was funny because it was true.

"Who'd have thought a couple of auld Templar codger's like us would find such fine women in the Inquisition, and mages to boot." Rylen laughed.

"Indeed." Cullen smirked.

"Ah, but I know ye didn't ask me here to crack on about our sweeties." Rylen said, standing to attention.

"No, I do have an assignment for you. In the Western Approach." Cullen said, finding the report he was looking for.

* * *

Tris stepped out of Cullen's office and fell back against the door. Oh the things she would have done to that man if Captain Rylen hadn't been there to interrupt their fun.

Sighing she saw a commotion in the courtyard below. Josephine was waving her arms and calling up to her. There was dust everywhere as a band of horses was being herded through the gates.

Laughing at the sight of her friend trying to direct the powerful animals as if they were visiting dignitaries, Tris joined her in the yard "No... they need to go to the horse master," the lady ambassador said, holding a scented handkerchief to her nose.

An Orlesian Corsair came trotting up to where they were standing. Tris felt her heartstrings thrum. The animal nuzzled her, pawing the ground at her feet. Her memories threatened to overtake her.

 

> _A bright autumn day. His cheeks flushed from the wind._
> 
> _"Come on... I have something to show you..."_
> 
> _Riding through the surf, the spray kicking up as the Corsair flew across the sand._
> 
> _The smell of the sea and the mountains..._
> 
> _His arms tight around her, his mouth at her ear._
> 
> _Alone at the top of the cliff... kissing him for the first time._
> 
> _She needs a name... "What? Horse isn't good enough." His laughter on her skin..._
> 
> _They had been young and impulsive and..._

"Inquisitor? _Beatrice_?" Josie was saying, jolting her out of her reverie.

Tris took a deep breath, her hands coming up and rubbing the horse between his eyes. "I'm sorry Josie... what were you saying?"

"Just that these are a gift from the Comte de Gadbois, in his support of the Inquisition." Josephine said brightly.

"How generous of him." Tris said dreamily, her mind still lingering on that long ago day. "Can you make sure that this one is mine. His name is Storm."

Beatrice patted the animal on the flank, sending him off with the rest of the beasts. She smiled to herself as she walked up the steps to the main hall.

"Beebee" Sera called from the balcony above, "ppppppssssttttt Beebee!"

Looking up, Tris saw her friend hanging over the railing, and madly flailing her arms, trying to get her attention. Everyone seemed to need something from her today.

She climbed up to Vivienne's usual haunt, Sera bounding up to her excitedly, "I was walking through the laundry, lookin for somethin or other, doesn't matter, but I got the best idea!"

"Let me guess, it involves starching Lady Vivienne's small clothes?" Tris laughed.

"OOOH that's a good one. We'll have to do that later, but no, I was thinkin, we dye her clothes pink! Pink is soft, she's hard, the change in her colors will make people laugh at her instead of scared, boom, she's people."

"That's certainly an... _idea_." Tris grinned.

"Yeah I know innit? Problem is, the washer woman is all out of red dye." Sera said, her nose wrinkling in frustration.

"I'll have Josie add it to the requisition order." Sera looked disappointed, so Tris added, "I'll tell you what... why don't we just starch her small clothes until the dye comes in."

Sera perked up immediately, "Lady Stick-up-her-arse will be walking around like she's got an _actual_ stick up her arse!" Dissolving into a puddle of hysterical laughter, Sera nodded and walked away, most likely to put her nefarious plot into motion.

Tris made her way back to the library, she wanted to say hello to Dorian before she left. She found him reading a book, lounging in one of the tall back chairs.

"Romance or History?" She asked him with a grin.

"Neither. It's an adventure." He smirked back at her.

Taking the chair next to him, she lifted her legs and placed them in his lap, stretching. He turned to her, smiling ear to ear, his hands on her ankles.

"What?" She asked.

" _You_ have a thing for strapping young Templars. It's just something I find adorable about you." He laughed.

Tris closed her eyes and sighed.

"Why aren't you with said strapping young Templar if I might ask?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"We were... interrupted." She said, making a face. "I suppose it's for the best... I've got to go meet Hawke in Crestwood."

"Hawke!" Dorians eyes opened wide in shock. "Here? In Skyhold? Has anyone checked on Varric lately?"

"Varric is fine... Cassandra only bruised him." She teased.

"Well... the day is nearly done!" Dorian exclaimed. "You might as well leave for this Crestwood was it, in the morning."

Biting her lip and giving him a wicked grin, she plotted, "Well I could use a bath..."

* * *

A knock on his door took him out of the report he'd been engrossed in.

"Yes? Come in." Cullen called.

"Good evening Commander..." Dorian purred as he walked into the room. "I just stopped by to let you know that our dearest Inquisitor has decided to leave for Crestwood in the morning."

Cullen felt the corner of his mouth quirk up in a grin.

"Yes I thought you might enjoy that news." He smirked. "She would like to invite you to dine with her in her apartments this evening."

Cullen eyed the man suspiciously, "And _you're_ telling me this because..."

Dorian started with mock indignation, "Commander! I am simply relaying a message for my friend. She knows that the gossip about the two of you is, a touchy subject. She also knows that I won't... kiss and tell... so to speak."

Standing up, Cullen stretched, "Yes, well... Thank you."

"I'll just run along now... oh and Commander... do have a _pleasurable_ evening." Dorian winked.

Cullen looked at the door and shook his head. That mage was a strange one. But Tris was still here. He smiled to himself as he climbed the ladder to his bedroom.

Filling the basin with water he splashed his face and briefly considered shaving again. He examined the shadow of whiskers on his neck and cheeks, and decided against it. He would rather spend the time with her than waste time pointlessly grooming.

He pulled off his coat and armor, hanging it with care on the stand in the corner of his room.

Opening the chest at the foot of his bed, he pulled out a pair of soft cotton trousers and a clean shirt. He was smiling again, just thinking of her, as he pulled on his calf skin boots.

He wondered why Tris had decided delay her trip to meet Hawke. Not that he was complaining. But he had thought she had left hours ago. He climbed down and left his office with a lightness to his step that would certainly have people whispering if they knew where he was headed.

The main hall was dark, the candles barely illuminating the tables they sat upon. Only a few guards stood around, and they knew better than to question his destination.

Cullen felt nervous all of a sudden. Could Dorian be playing a joke on him... maybe in cahoots with Sera. Would he go up to her rooms and find himself alone, or worse yet, find them there, laughing at him.

No. He had no reason to distrust Dorian.

He straightened his shirt and smoothed back his hair. Pushing open the door that led up to Tris's bed chamber, he took a deep breath. He had never been up to her rooms before.

The light from the wall sconces had dark shapes playing across the floor as he climbed up the steps. Dust motes danced in the air around him. His heart beat faster at the thought of spending the night with her.

Coming up the last of the stairs, he could smell their dinner. His mouth watered, and not because of the food.

So Dorian had been right, he smiled to himself. He may have misjudged the man.

Taking in the table that was set with place settings for two, he did not notice Tris standing by the desk. She got his attention with a soft clear of her throat.

Cullen's jaw dropped at the sight of her.

Tris was wearing a sheer silk robe, open to her navel. He could see the dark pink of her nipples and the shadow of her sex through the gauzy material. It barely grazed the tops of her creamy thighs.

Her hair was pinned up in a deliciously tousled knot, loose strands fell onto her shoulders.

She smiled at him and picked up a strawberry from a plate on her desk. She slowly took a bite as she turned away from him. The roundness of her backside tantalizingly visible through the thin fabric.

Cullen swallowed hard. His breath quickened, his pulse racing, he stood there, gawking at her.

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a devious smile. Tris pulled the pin from her hair and a cascade of scarlet waves tumbled down her back.

With a shrug of her shoulders, the silk robe fell next, dropping to her feet.

His hand gripped the banister tightly and his breath hitched, he couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips.

Tris stepped into the large copper bathing tub that he hadn't even noticed was standing in the middle of the room. She sank down into the steaming water, grinning at him and without a word, managed to seductively invite him to join her.

Cullen nearly tripped on his own two feet as he rushed forward, roughly pulling off his boots and his shirt. The tub was extravagantly oversized, and he wondered for an instant where it had come from.

But she was at the edge of the bath, smiling up at him, rivulets of scented water dripping from her hair. He was undoing his breeches when she grasped the back of his neck and pulled his head down in a deep kiss.

Tris pulled him into the water with a splash.

His head broke the surface and she was right there, waiting to ravage his mouth. He reached out to take hold of her slippery skin, pulling her to him.

The water was so warm, and Tris was on her knees, straddling his hips as she pushed him back against the tub. Cullen's hand slid over her naked back and thighs. He gripped her hips, his fingers biting into her flesh.

Kicking off his sodden pants, he lifted Tris so that her breasts were near his mouth. He was squeezing her ass and holding her up. She arched her back, her long hair trailing in the water, as he took each one in turn, dragging his tongue across her skin, flicking and sucking on her nipples as she panted and gasped.

She slid back into the water, still in his arms and he crushed his mouth over hers.

She was kneeling again, a leg on each side of his body. The hard jut of his cock pressed into her thigh. Tris rocked her hips and he growled.

He was past the point of words.

Without surrendering her mouth, he grasped her hips and lifted her, bringing her down on the hard length of him completely.

A cry fell from her lips, and he swallowed it up greedily.

Her tongue was so delicious. Cullen pulled and sucked on it as Tris moaned and sighed. She moved herself on him, rocking her body slowly, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

Her hands slid up into his wet hair, fingernails gingerly scraping his scalp. Cullen tilted his head back and Tris ran her hot tongue up his throat. He moaned.

She was moving faster now, he could feel her tighten around him.

Tris threw her own head back, his arms the only thing holding her up, as she continued to stroke them both.

He pulled her to him, his face pressed against her breasts. Cullen had his hands splayed across her bare back. His own breath coming in gasps.

All the need and longing between them was slowly reaching a crescendo as their bodies moved together as one. The buildup was exquisite.

Tris started to tremble, her hips bucking wildly, her cries of passion filling the air. Cullen relished the fact that no one could hear them from this height in the keep.

She rolled her head back, her legs still lifting her in time with his thrusts. Tris's lashes fluttered erratically. Cullen's mouth was on her throat, sucking on the tender sensitive skin at her pulse.

His strong arms flexed as he pulled her against the hard planes of his chest. She was letting him guide her body to whatever he needed. Cullen pushed her harder and faster, he could hear it in her breathing that she was going to come again.

This time he would join her.

Tris was sighing softly into his ear, her moans were intoxicating. His body suddenly tensed and he shuddered violently as his own release was upon him. He hoarsely cried out her name.

They held each other tightly, as their combined release sent reverberating shivers through them both.

The bath was still remarkably warm. Cullen sunk down into the water, letting it lap over his shoulders. Tris was still in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. She laid her head down on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck.

Just holding her like this, in the peaceful quiet of her room, was wonderful. The crackling fire and the candle light bathing the room in a warm golden light.

Tris sighed contentedly. Cullen couldn't help the smile that was creeping onto his lips. He pressed them tenderly against her temple and kissed her gently. "So is this why you didn't leave for Crestwood today?"

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter and he felt her smile on his skin. "I needed a bath..."

Cullen took her cheek in his palm, turning her face towards him. Her eyes shone in the firelight. He kissed her sweetly, just a soft press of their lips. "I'm glad you decided to stay..."


	19. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning that Tris is set to leave for Crestwood, Cullen is feeling apprehensive. Not wanting to let her go, they spend their last hours before she leaves together in bed. As Cullen's migraines and nightmares continue to torment him, he gets a little help from two unexpected friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long delay between chapters. I had life stuff going on that made it impossible to sit down and write. I have 2 more chapters almost ready to go so hopefully I'll have another update within the week. Thank you for your patience and understanding... I hope you like the new stuff. XXOO - Tamie

The light from the early morning sun was filtering through the stained glass windows in her room. Cullen smiled into the soft pillow as he turned his head.

Tris was on her side with her back to him. He softly caressed the curve of her hip and thigh through the thin sheet.

Cullen slipped an arm around her and pulled her against his hard body. Somewhere between dreaming and awake, she ran a warm hand up his arm lovingly, snuggling further into his embrace.

He buried his face in her disheveled hair and delighted in the smell. Orange blossoms and warm vanilla filled his nose as he nuzzled her neck.

Tris made a contented sound and pressed herself into him, pulling his arm around her tighter.

His lips found her sweet skin and Cullen closed his eyes, kissing along her ear and scraping his teeth playfully along her shoulder. Without a word, she twisted around to face him.

Tris's bottle green eyes were practically glowing in the morning light. With her cheeks flushing, she bit her lower lip and looked up at him with a mischievous grin.

"Did you sleep well..." she purred.

He sighed, the nightmares had threatened to take a hold of him a few times during the night, but having her near seemed to keep the demons at bay. At least it seemed that way to him.

Cullen smiled and kissed her cheek, "With you next to me... how could I not?"

She crinkled her nose as she smiled and nuzzled under his chin, slipping her arms around his chest. Their legs were lazily tangled together. He stroked her hair and ran his hands down her back.

"You'll be leaving soon.." He started before trailing off with a heavy sigh.

Tris turned her face up to him with a sad look.

"I won't be gone long."

He wanted to tell her that anytime without her would be too long. That his stomach clenched whenever he watched her ride away. Should he instead tell her that everything was fine when she was out battling Maker only knows what. That he wasn't sick with worry and regret over not being able to fight by her side.

Cullen didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.

Since his decision to stop taking lyrium, not only did his nightmares worsen, but he had intense headaches and chronic pain. Some days were better than others.

Even his endurance suffered, as he could not fight for as long or as hard as he had in his youth. He was still a skilled warrior, but with these limitations and obstacles in his path, he felt he would be ineffective on the battlefield.

He was better suited to training the recruits and providing military advice to the Inquisition, or at least that was what he told himself.

Tris saved him from having to answer with a gentle caress of her lips. "I'll miss you every second I'm gone."

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back as she languidly kissed up his throat to his jaw. Moving upward, she nipped his earlobe and ruffled his already messy curls with her fingers.

She rutted against him, her hips grinding into his. He could feel the wetness on his thigh from where she had rubbed against him.

If she wanted to play dirty, he would gladly join her.

Rolling Tris onto her back, Cullen nestled his body between her legs. Feeling her smooth stomach against his naked torso, Cullen hungrily kissed the skin below her breasts, raking his hands up her sides.

Tris arched her back and threw her head into the pillows.

"Cullen..." she moaned softly.

Her hands had found their way back into his hair.

"I _have_ to go..."

He breathed into her skin, kissing his way past her navel. Cullen possessively wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on her stomach. "I don't know when you'll be back."

The sheet slipped down around his waist as he moved lower, kissing her belly and sliding his shoulders under her thighs.

His hands lingered on an angry scar that marred the smooth white skin of her side. A painful reminder that he'd almost lost her when Haven was attacked.

But he hadn't lost her. Cullen laid his cheek on her hip and pulled her closer to him. He wouldn't let the events of Haven happen ever again.

Turning to the side, he couldn't help the throaty growl that came out of him as he pressed his face into her fragrant sex.

Inhaling the sweet scent of her arousal, he kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Tris involuntarily jerked when his whiskers scratched her. Running his hand along her leg he nuzzled the red marks that were already appearing there.

"Forgive me... I didn't mean to hurt you."

She gave him a smirk, her eyes playful and bright.

Cullen brushed his lips along her thigh, leaving feathery kisses in his wake.

Her breathing was shallow as he slid his hot tongue along her slick folds. He pressed harder when he felt the tightening bud of flesh at her core, sending shivers through her entire body.

Cullen's lips curled into a smile as he stroked her again.

Tris rolled her hips, arching her back up off the mattress. He moved with her, propping himself up on his muscular arms. When her hand reached out and grasped his wrist, their eyes locked and he swirled his blistering tongue over her clit again.

She tilted her head back and rocked her hips as Cullen lapped at her core, savoring her fragrant honey. He sucked and twisted his tongue in circles.

With a husky cry, Tris slammed back into the bed.

Greedily winding his arms around her hips, he pulled her closer. Tris made little noises of pleasure as he pierced her with his stabbing tongue over and over again.

Cullen slowly caressed her with his mouth, kissing and sucking as she started to buck her hips again. He braced her against his broad shoulders and his nimble tongue soon made her cry out in passion, but just as she was at her climax, he pulled away.

Her panting gasps filled the room and he was sure she was about to ask him why he had stopped, when he quickly replaced his tongue with something else.

Cullen drove himself into her, slamming their bodies together with a shattering force.

Tris couldn't hold back the scream that escaped her lips.

He was pinning her hard to the mattress, his thrusts shaking them both. Lowering himself over her, he ran his calloused hands through her hair, pushing it back away from her face.

"Tris... " He breathed.

Her heated sighs and moans came in time with his own.

He went to kiss her before realizing that her essence was still dripping from his face.

Licking his lips, savoring the salty sweet taste of her, he started to kiss her neck instead. Tris surprised him when she pulled him back to her mouth. They searched each other's eyes only for an instant before she kissed him passionately.

Tasting herself on her lips, she looked at Cullen with fire burning in her eyes. Knowing that she liked the way she tasted only made him harder. His mouth covered hers in a deep penetrating kiss. As his tongue stroked hers, he sucked and pulled on her mouth.

Tris gasped and trembled under the hard planes of his body. His own groans of pleasure were pouring out of him in waves.  Her nails raked across the taut muscles of his back and shoulders and he growled.

With her moaning louder now, he felt her inner walls tighten around the hard length of him. Cullen was frantic in his own need, the lust he felt for her burned even hotter as the taste of her mouth and her cunt danced on his tongue.

She pulled her knees up, her thighs pressing tightly against his ribcage, as he slid his rough hands up her arms, pinning them at the side of her head. Tris's screams of passion spurred him on and with one last thrust, he cried out as his entire body shook with release.

They lay in the tousled sheets, limbs intertwined, still clinging to one another. Their panting breath the only sound in the room. Cullen was about to break the silence when muffled laughter bubbled up from Tris, tickling his ear.

"That was..." she began breathlessly. "quite a way to say _good morning_."

It was Cullen's turn to laugh now. It used to sound strange to him, the sound of his own laugher.

After so much darkness and despair in his life, he'd forgotten that this part of his heart even existed. It was like she had woken him from a dream.

"I _could_ get used to this..." she smiled contentedly, her eyes dancing as they met his.

Tenderly brushing her cheek with his fingers, he lowered his lips to kiss her.

"That would involve you staying here in Skyhold with me more often..."

She closed her eyes and blew out a hard breath.

"Cullen... you know I would stay if I could."

"I know, love. I didn't mean to... that is... I wasn't trying to..."

He was stuttering. Why did he always say the wrong thing?

She kissed him again, putting him out of his misery. The way she felt under his body made him feel complete. Like he was finally where he belonged. Cullen found himself not wanting to let her go.

"One day... we'll have all the time in the world to lay about in bed." She teased, "But today is not that day."

He lifted himself off of her finally, keeping her tucked into his side. Cullen wound his arms around her, selfishly not wanting to lose contact with her skin.

Tris rested her head on his shoulder and idly stroked his messy curls.

"It's just... I worry about you when you're gone." He confessed. "I know you're capable, you're _more_ than capable. It's just that... dealing with Hawke is... _dangerous_..."

She looked up at him, a brazen grin tugging up the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not in any danger from Hawke..."

"No. Not _from_ Hawke... Although that woman is a force of nature. I meant to say, that those around her are... often put in... mortal peril."

This had sounded better in his head.

" _Mortal peril?"_ Tris giggled. "Cullen... I'm just going to speak with her Grey Warden contact. It's not like we're going into a battle."

He sighed wearily, "Everything with Hawke usually ends in a battle."

Tris kissed his chin and wrapped her arms around him tightly, "It's all going to be alright... you'll see."

* * *

Cullen was sitting at his desk, reading a report from Capt. Rylen.

> Commander,
> 
> You were right, the Western Approach is in dire need of the Inquisitions attention. Between the heat, the deadly wildlife, the lack of water and the Venatori lurking about, it's a wonder anyone would want to be here by choice. There are few people to be seen in fact.
> 
> Local bandits, possibly with Venatori ties, have taken over a keep in the North. They're keeping to themselves and haven't given us much trouble, but that's sure to change as we continue to poke around. Thanks again for this assignment Ser. I almost lost my favorite pair of boots to a quillback the other day. Did you know quillback make excellent barbeque Ser? I do now.
> 
> -Rylen

He was readying a reply when he saw something at the edge of his vision.

Narrowing his eyes, he spoke aloud to the room, "Cole? Is that you? You might as well come out... whatever you're planning... you can't make me forget. That trick doesn't work on me remember."

"Sorry." Cole whispered. He was sitting on top of a barrel in the corner of the room. "I just wanted to help."

Cullen didn't fully trust the demon, spirit, whatever he was.

"And what do I need help with?" He said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Blinding pain. Head feels wrong. Heavy. Hurts to think. Better when she's near. Her laughter makes the bad thoughts go away." Cole said in a hushed tone.

Cullen took a closer look at the young man who was still staring at him, his floppy hat covering half of his face. Cole was sitting cross legged a top the barrel, his hands on his knees, legs dangling over the edge.

He appeared to be a young man, sounded like a young man, but he wasn't a young man.

It unnerved him when Cole looked into his mind like this.

"Her light keeps the darkness at bay. Makes the whispers stop." Cole glanced at the book shelf behind his desk.

Cullen turned and noticed a bowl of fresh cut oranges. A smile crept onto his face as he realized he _had_ been smelling Tris in his office. She always used orange blossom perfume.

It was intoxicating.

He loved it.

"And you thought..." He began.

"If you smelled her... you would think of her. Then the darkness couldn't hurt you." Cole smiled.

Cullen smiled back, "Thank you, Cole. That _does_ help."

When he looked up again, he was alone. Smiling to himself, he took a deep breath, flooding his senses with the scent of oranges. The scent of her. Cullen leaned back in his chair, he closed his eyes and rubbed the knot of stress that was forming at the back of his head.

Cole's gesture was sweet, but it would do little to help when his migraine unleashed it's full fury.

He always knew when a headache was about to take hold of him. He would begin to see sun spots in his vision and intense pain would stab at his temples. Dizziness and nausea would overtake him and he would be as helpless as a kitten.

He hated that he was so vulnerable when he had them.

Cullen found himself unable to focus as his headache worsened. Pushing aside the endless piles of parchment that covered his desk, he stood up and wearily climbed the ladder to his bed.

It was late afternoon, the sunlight filtering in through the windows was a warm golden hue, but Cullen knew his migraine craved the darkness. Sleep would be his only solace and sleep never came without a price.

His nightmares had changed again since coming to Skyhold. Instead of his imprisonment and torture at Kinloch Hold, he now saw Haven burning.

The panicked shouts of the Inquisition filled his ears and the smells of smoke and snow and charred flesh swirled around him.

He shuddered as the memory threatened to consume him. No matter how hard he fought, it would have him soon enough.

Cullen hung his armor with care on the stand in the corner and turned to his wash basin. Splashing the cool water on his face helped a little, as did the chilly mountain air flooding in through the opening in the roof.

He kept refusing to let the workmen fix it because secretly he enjoyed being able to look at the stars from his bed and the cold air that would pour in kept his office and bed chamber comfortably brisk.

Turning to his bed, he was wishing he'd brought the oranges up with him so at least the smell would give him some small amount of comfort, but he didn't think he could make it down the ladder and back up again without aid.

He roughly stripped off his shirt and boots, letting them fall to the ground with a dull thud. He would worry about tidying up tomorrow. Cullen collapsed into bed wearing only his cotton breeches.

The cool material felt wonderful against his bare skin as he sank into the feather mattress.

Taking a moment to arrange the pillows how he liked them, he surrendered to the numbness of sleep.

Before long, the darkness closed in around him, twisting his memories into the nightmares that plagued him.

> Smoke and ash choked him.
> 
> He was blindly running through the melee, Inquisition soldiers and Red Templars alike lay dead or dying in the grimy snow. The ground was soaked with crimson.
> 
> The salty tang of blood was on his tongue. His blood.
> 
> Cullen ducked as the leathery wings of the Archdemon swooped down from above, it's scream was deafening. Shaking from rage and fear, he ran after it.
> 
> He had to find her before it was too late.
> 
> Reaching for his sword, it was not there. He could not remember where he had lost it, but now he was unarmed and powerless to stop what would happen next.
> 
> A brilliant flash of red made him shield his eyes. The heat from the fires licked at his clothes and hair. Super heated air singed his nostrils and his throat making him cough violently.
> 
> Then he saw her, laying on her side in the dust. Blood, sticky and wet, pooled around her on the ground.
> 
> _Her blood_ , he realized, as his stomach clenched.
> 
> The Elder One stood looming over her, loathing and malice contorting what was left of his face into a terrifying mask of unadulterated hatred. The corrupted dragon paced behind them. It's growl a deep rumble in its chest. 
> 
> The very trees shook with the sound.
> 
> Cullen tried to shout, to draw it's attention, to give her a chance to run, but he had no voice.
> 
> It wouldn't have mattered anyway, the beast was fixated on its prey.
> 
> Corypheus violently hauled Tris up by her arm as she dangled helplessly in his grasp. Her armor was blood soaked and covered in gore.
> 
> She turned her face to the side and Cullen saw that her white skin was covered with ugly bruises. Streaks of blood and dirt clung to her shattered features.
> 
> Rage and anger coursed through his veins. But he could not reach her, no matter how far he ran.
> 
> With one swift motion, Tris was thrown to the dragon.
> 
> Razor sharp talons and teeth tore her to pieces.
> 
> He cried out but there was no sound. Then the roar of the avalanche stole her dying screams away from him.
> 
> But her face, _Maker_ her beautiful face, was forever burned into his memory.

With a start, Cullen woke up. His chest was burning and his head was throbbing. Ragged panting breaths pulled at his lungs.

Rolling onto his side, he froze as he realized that he was not alone.

A single candle was lit on the nightstand and Dorian was sitting in a chair with his boots up on the foot of his bed, a book in his hand. 

"Bad dreams Commander?" Dorian smirked. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Cullen was in no mood for games, "What in Andraste's holy name are you doing in my room Tevinter?"

"Cole came and got me if you must have a reason. He said you were... having nightmares." Dorian said gently.

Looking around the room Cullen sighed heavily, "Cole? Are you here too?"

"I just... wanted to help." Cole appeared behind Dorian, an timid look on his face.

Cullen sat up and tried to stand, he wanted to tell them to get out, but he was weak from the lyrium withdrawals and his nightmares. Shaking, he fell back onto the bed.

Dorian was standing over him in an instant, a look of concern shadowing his features.

"I suppose it's pointless to tell you that not taking lyrium anymore _can_ kill you." 

"I am well aware of the risks, mage." Cullen growled angrily. He felt the headache tighten at the base of his skull, his insides twisted with nausea.

"No need to be snippy about it. I only wanted to make _sure_ you _knew_." Dorian said with a scowl.

"Of course I KNOW it can kill me. But it hasn't yet, and I haven't had _any_ lyrium for almost a year." Cullen sighed.

"Vile and sweet. It burns going down but gives you power. Now the power is gone. You wonder if you'll ever be free from wanting it. But you're stronger without it. More solid. You're still you... but without the magic." Cole whispered from the other side of the bed.

"Here... drink this." Dorian said abruptly, handing Cullen a flask.

"What is it?" He asked suspiciously.

"Well it's certainly not lyrium if that's what you're worried about. It's a potion that will help." Dorian smiled and tried to look reassuring.

Cullen took a swig and felt warmth spread throughout his body. It tasted like honey and herbs.

"What is this?" He said, amazed that it actually _did_ make him feel better.

"Just a little something of my own creation. It has restorative properties that mimic what lyrium does to a mage that's exhausted their mana." Dorian smugly explained. "I thought it might help you."

"Can you make more?" He said, hope coloring his words.

"Of course I can. I have several draughts already prepared for you in your office in fact."

Dorian was smirking again.

Cullen took a deep breath as the smell of orange blossoms once again flooded his senses.

"Thank you Cole." He whispered into the darkness as he sank back onto the bed, almost relaxed.

He saw Cole smile at him under the brim of his floppy hat.

Dorian sat down next to him and stretched out on the mattress at his side.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cullen irritably spat, sitting up angrily, the tension immediately returning to his body.

"Well I'm not about to leave you alone. Look at you. You're still paler than a sheet and you look like a strong breeze might knock you over." Dorian said crossly. "Besides, I promised Tris I would look out for you while she was away. She worries about you, you know."

Cullen sighed. Worry and guilt and apprehension all blurring together.

"Tris asked you check on me while she was away? And _why_ would you agree to that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Dorian said with surprise.

"Whispers in the corner of my mind. Why does she love me? I am broken. She would be better off without me. Jealousy. Hot and intense whenever she speaks to him. What if she prefers his company to mine? What if she loves him? Or worse, what if he loves her back?" Cole mumbled.

Cullen gritted his teeth and looked away.

Understanding dawned on Dorian, "You think _I'm_ in love with _her_?"

"Well you certainly don't hide your flirting." Cullen grumped.

Dorian slapped his knee and laughed, "Do I love her? Yes. Undoubtedly so. More than I thought possible in fact. But am I _in love_ with her? Commander, nothing could be farther from the truth."

"But the way you carry on. Whispering and laughing together. The way you look at each other. The way you speak of her!" Cullen was missing something here, he was sure of it.

Dorian gave him a look of sympathy and his features softened.

"She is my dearest friend and I love her with all that I am. But... I prefer the company of men. And so Beatrice and I are never to be. Besides, she is my cousin, a distant cousin perhaps, but seeing as I have so little family left, I cherish her as if she were my own sister." Dorian smiled.

Cullen was at a loss for words.

_Dorian preferred the company of men._ That was... unexpected. _And Tris was his cousin._ _They were only friends, family even._

He felt the fool. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he was thankful for the lack of light in the room  to hide his embarrassment.

"I... I did not know..." He stammered.

"No apology is necessary. She loves you with all her heart. And because of that you should know that I consider you family, as I consider her family." Dorian said with a sweet smile.

"No, it was wrong of me to assume...." Cullen started.

Dorian raised a hand to silence him, "Water under the bridge Commander. I cannot fault you for being jealous. I AM a devastatingly charming and handsome man after all. Who wouldn't be nervous with their lady in my presence."

Cullen found himself chuckling at that, where even an hour ago, he would have bristled.

"I have been too quick to judge you I'm afraid. I will try and do better in the future."

Dorian smiled brightly and picked up his book, "I do look forward to it, I have so few friends you see. I would be honored to count you among them. Now you really  _should_ rest. Cole and I will be here if you need anything."

Cullen smiled to himself as he laid back in the feather bed. Knowing that Dorian was not trying to steal Tris away from him lifted a considerable weight from his shoulders, one that he hadn't even been fully aware of.

It wasn't like him to be jealous, but he was still learning to navigate the complexities of love. Although there was nothing he feared more than losing Tris. Knowing that she loved him just as protectively and completely as he loved her eased his mind and brought him no small amount of comfort.

Knowing that others cared about his well being again was going to take some getting used to, but he had to admit, it made him feel a little less alone. When only Cassandra had been aware of his decision to stop taking lyrium, it had seemed a great burden that only he could bear.

Now that Tris and Dorian _and_ Cole knew, it felt less daunting. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten what having friends was like.

He looked up at Dorian in the darkness, the man was pretending to read but was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"May I ask a favor, Dorian?" Cullen's voice was low and rough with sleep.

"Anything Commander." Dorian gave him a devastating smile.

"I don't want Tris hearing about this, about my headaches, my nightmares, my ongoing struggle with lyrium. She will only worry and she has enough on her mind as it is." He said quietly.

Dorian patted him on the arm and nodded. "Of course, Commander."

"Oh and Dorian?" Cullen yawned, rolling over onto his side. "I would kindly ask you to remove yourself from my bed."

Dorian rolled off the mattress with a wink and a laugh as the muffled sound of a young man laughing echoed in the dark.


	20. Don't Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from Crestwood, Tris and Cullen try and spend some time together before she must go to meet Hawke and Stroud in the Western Approach. Not knowing how long they will be apart, both of them want to make the most of the evening.

"A dragon?" Cullen blanched. The shock and surprise in his own voice, startling him.

"You should have seen it Cullen! It was HUGE!" Bull shouted. "Spewing lightening everywhere and it's ROAR! What I wouldn't give to roar like that!"

"And you thought it would be a _good idea_ to fight it?"

He was incredulous.

"We didn't just fight it. We killed the shit out of it!" Bull said proudly. 

"There was more in Crestwood than a dragon, Bull." Tris said, rolling her eyes.

She was trying to gloss over the fight, but Cullen wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily.

"Right, we can't forget the legion of undead." Varric added. "Or the bandits."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. "The point is... the Warden's _are_ acting suspicious and it does make sense that Corypheus would be involved, especially since a Tevinter Magister is working with them."

"Hawke and Stroud have already left for the Western Approach. We're to meet them there as soon as possible to try and discover what's going on." Tris said with a determined look in her eye.

"My agents have reported increased Venatori activity in the Approach, as well as several Grey Warden sightings." Leliana said. "We must put a stop to whatever they plan on setting in motion."

"Capt Rylen is already there," Cullen added, "he can provide assistance and intel on the area."

"Good. We leave in the morning. This must be our priority." Tris said, slamming her fist down on the war table.

One by one, the advisors and inner circle filed out of the room, leaving Cullen and Tris standing on opposite sides of the table.

Dust particles drifted in the morning sunlight that was coming in through the open windows. The air was crisp. Full of the smells of wood smoke and the changing season.

Cullen watched her as she studied the map, her brows coming together in concentration as her green eyes swept from side to side.

She bit her lower lip while absentmindedly playing with a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the knot she liked to wear it in when she was out fighting.

"So... a dragon hmmm?" He began.

She looked up at him through a veil of dark lashes, her bottle green eyes sparkling.

"Mmmm hmmmm."

The beginnings of a smile played upon her lips as he tried not to grin back at her.

"Killed _the shit_ out of it did you?"

Cullen laughed, unable to hide his amusement any longer.

Now she was giving him a toothy grin, "Once Bull saw her... he _had_ to have her. _You_ try telling him no."

Cullen had walked around the table to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her towards him.

"I know exactly how he feels. But _I think_ you wanted to fight it just as much as he did."

She put her arms around his neck and gave him a dazzling smile.

"It was _amazing_ Cullen! I've never fought anything like it before! It was... exhilarating!"

As he put his lips to hers, he smiled, "I just don't like the idea of you taking unnecessary risks that's all."

Tris kissed him back eagerly, her body pressing into his with urgency. She rolled her hips forward, making him shudder as she ground against him. He made a throaty growl and pulled her closer.

"She really was a threat to the town, we _had_ to deal with her. It wasn't anything we couldn't handle." She said, breaking their kiss. "I'm a Knight-Enchanter, remember? We were more than up to the task."

The tightness in his trousers had him distracted, but he wasn't about to let her go off slaying dragons without a fight.

"We're not done talking about this." He murmured into her skin as he left burning kisses along her jaw line.

Her hands snaked into his hair, finger nails gently scratching his scalp. Cullen wound his arms around her waist and lifted her up, setting her down on the edge of the war table.

Stepping into her embrace, he could feel the heat radiating from between her legs. His body went rigid and his blood thundered in his ears.

He pressed his hardened desire against her core and she moaned.

Tris was pulling at the straps of his armor and nibbling on his ear as he started to work the buttons of her blouse open.

They both froze when a flustered Josephine cleared her throat behind them.

"Please excuse the interruption, Inquisitor."

Her dulcet tones did not hide the fact that she was clearly mortified at what she had walked in on.

Tris's voice was thick with desire as she peered around Cullen's broad shoulders at the Lady Ambassador.

"Josie, can't this wait? We're... a little busy at the moment."

Cullen leaned into her, the friction of his erection against her cunt making them both shudder.

Josie cleared her throat again.

"I'm afraid it cannot wait. I would not have interrupted you if it wasn't absolutely necessary." She continued.

Tris lips brushed his ear, her hot breath making him clutch the material of her shirt in his fists.

As she quickly closed the buttons he had worked open, she whispered, "I don't leave until tomorrow. Stay with me tonight?"

Cullen tightened his grip on her waist and kissed her fiercely, "Nothing could keep me away."

He leaned forward on the war table as the door softly closed behind him. Running a hand through his hair, he rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a hard breath.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

After what seemed like days rather than hours, Tris was finally climbing the stairs to her rooms. Her shoulders ached from sitting in that high backed chair for so long looking over all the reports that Josie needed her signatures on.

Wasn't this why she had advisors, so she didn't have to deal with mountains of paperwork?

She still wasn't sure how it was so important that it had to disturb what almost had been in the war room.

Just thinking about being in Cullen's arms made her blood run hot and her heart race. She licked her lips as she remembered the taste of him.

The salt of his skin and the way his stubble felt on her tongue left her with a heated longing deep in her belly.

The smell of his shaving kit combined with the leather and metal of his armor.

Spicy and rich. Musk mingled with lyrium. Like a summers night right before a lightning storm. Even though he had stopped taking it, the lyrium had left its mark on him in more ways than one.

She closed her eyes and rolled her neck and shoulders, slowly willing the tension away.

The thought of his hands all over her gave her a thrill.

Tris roughly pulled out the knot in her hair. Crimson waves splashed over her shoulders as she opened the door to her bedroom.

She pulled off her silk blouse, dropping it on the stone floor, before falling face first into her bed.

How could diplomacy drain her more than fighting off hordes of undead? Perhaps it was just the last week catching up with her. She hadn't had a chance to slow down since she'd left for Crestwood.

There had been the rift in the middle of the lake, the demons and the undead. And like Varric had said, routing the bandits from Caer Bronach had been no picnic.

Meeting up with Hawke and Stroud, learning about the Wardens strange behavior and then Red Templars showing up unexpectedly and trying to gain a foot hold in the area.

And all this was before they'd ever seen a dragon.

Tris stretched and rolled over.

Pulling her boots off and tossing them into the corner, she smirked to herself. She'd always been scolded for being messy while she was in the Circle. Apparently becoming the Inquisitor hadn't changed much.

Normally there would be piles of clothes and boots littering the floor of her room, but Skyhold had an army of servants. They'd put everything in order while she'd been away.

But there were still signs of her messiness around the room. Precariously stacked books near the hearth, a cluttered dressing table, and her rucksack laying on its side by the stairway where she had discarded it when she returned to the keep that morning.

It's contents haphazardly spilling out all over the floor.

Blood Lotus, Spindleweed and more Elfroot than she could ever possibly need were bundled together while Obsidian and some rare Stormheart glinted in the light.

She would take them to the undercroft later.

The only thing that she didn't seem to make a mess of was her desk and that was only because she detested paperwork, so she avoided it at all cost.

As she swung her legs off the bed she grumbled at Josie and her poor timing.

Tris pulled her leggings off and stood in front of the fire in her small clothes. Yawning, she watched the flames, her thoughts drifting to the dragon. A knock on the door brought her attention back to the present.

"Come in." She called.

A young woman popped her head in and immediately lowered her gaze when she saw Tris standing there, practically naked.

"I beg your forgiveness your Worship. I was sent to get your dinner order."

"As long as it's hot, the cook can make whatever she likes."

Tris smiled at the girl while pulling on a robe.

"But make it dinner for two, if you please. Thank you."

The young woman disappeared without another word, leaving Tris contemplating a bath or a nap.

Her luxuriously oversized copper tub had been moved to the water closet and she did not feel like bothering the servants to retrieve it for her. They had better things to do.

A nap would be lovely, but she didn't want to oversleep and miss her rendezvous with Cullen later that evening. Tris walked out onto the balcony, letting the afternoon sun warm her face, while she decided what she wanted to do.

Looking down over Skyhold, she saw Bull sparing with Krem in the training yard. Tris could hear their cheerful laughter as Krem got in a good blow that knocked Bull backwards.

Cassandra was off on her own, destroying a training dummy near the infirmary. The light reflecting off her polished sword as she brandished it ferociously.

Sera was sneaking out of the window of the tavern, off to pull pranks no doubt. Tris could imagine the impish grin on her face as she plotted her tricks and high jinks.

She looked to Cullen's office, hoping he might appear, just so she could watch him walk the battlements, but he was probably busy with a report or missive.

He was dedicated and passionate when it came to his duties. Tris had great respect and admiration for him. But right now she was more interested in his other attributes.

She closed her eyes and saw his face. The way he seemed to light up whenever she walked into a room. The smirk he gave her when he knew she wanted him. The scar on his lip that she loved to trace with her tongue.

With a heavy sigh, she went back inside.

Her eyes were still bleary from pouring over all those boring reports. She didn't know how Cullen and Josie did it, day in and day out.

Tris dropped the robe onto the floor and slipped out of her breast band and under clothes. The cool mountain air made goose bumps break out all over her bare skin.

She stretched and shook out her hair as another yawn escaped her lips. Bending over the basin to wash her face, she smiled to herself as she remembered the fight with the Northern Hunter.

Electricity sizzling as it scorched the ground around them.

The smell of ancient magic swirling around her.

The way her heart pounded and adrenaline flooded her body.

Feeling the ground shake and tremble as the beast jumped around, its tail lashing about, destroying the ruins they fought in.

And the way it roared.

_Makers Breath_!

Bull was right. It was the best fight they'd ever been in.

Vivienne had given her good counsel, helping to steer her towards becoming a Knight-Enchanter. She'd never imagined magic could work that way.

Pulling energy from the veil like it belonged to her.

The grip of the spectral sword in her left hand and her staff in her right.

Feeling the resistance of flesh and bone as her blade cut through the dragons hide.

She had always been taught to cast magic from a distance. Robes did little to protect against arrows or daggers after all. But she felt no fear as she joined the melee. Just raw power coursing through her body.

As she splashed cool water over her face, she thought of what Cullen would say. She knew the Inquisition counted on her. Putting herself in harms way was not something they could risk.

And she knew Cullen would not approve, but she had every intention of becoming a dragon hunter despite all that.

* * *

He had lost track of time, working on field reports and supply line updates. The sky was dark when he finally hurried out of his office.

Cullen swore under his breath as he realized how late it had become.

Not bothering to change, he was still wearing his usual coat and armor. He had not wanted to waste anymore time away from her.

In his haste, he did not care that the clanking of his armor disturbed the quiet of the main hall. He felt dirty looks all over him from visiting dignitaries and nobles as he escaped through the door to her chambers. 

Running his hands over his hair to smooth it back, he walked briskly up to her rooms.

He confidently opened the door without hesitation. She _was_ expecting him after all.

Climbing the last of the stairs, he saw covered dishes on the table, set for two. Cullen smelled the aromatic stew and the sweet wine. His stomach growled in response.

He had not eaten anything since breakfast.

Cullen internally chastised himself for neglecting his personal well being. He had a tendency to become so focused on what he was working on that nothing could distract him.

Well he wanted to be distracted tonight.

It had taken him almost an hour to get over what they'd started in vain in the war room. He'd half considered palming himself but decided against it. Why fantasize about Tris when he would be with her later that night.

Maybe that was why he absorbed himself in his duties so completely. If he started to think of her, he would not have been able to think of anything else.

Cullen looked around the room and his heart melted. Tris had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the fire, an open book still in her hand.

She was wearing a light green dress that looked Antivan, with off the shoulder sleeves and a golden bodice. The shimmering material draped over her shapely legs and pooled on the floor in front of the couch. Her long hair was brushed out and scarlet waves framed her face and fanned out on the pillow under her head.

She looked like a storybook princess.

Cullen knelt down at her side and tenderly stroked her face. He dipped his head and gave her a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing hers for fear of waking her.

He knew how tired she'd been after they returned from Crestwood in such a hurry and couldn't bear to disturb her. Slipping strong arms under her body, he lifted her easily.

Holding her close, Cullen carried Tris to the bed. He nuzzled her cheek and hair as the smell of orange blossoms surrounded him. Laying her down gently, he covered her with a blanket and kissed her head.

As much as he was looking forward to spending the night with her, he would let her sleep.

Turning back to the table, he lifted the lid off of one of the dishes and inhaled hungrily.

His stomach once again grumbled in response.  

When he had left his office, he had brought a stack of papers with him, hoping to drop them off with Josephine in the morning, but there was still more work to be done.

There was always more work to be done.

He took his meal and a bottle of wine and made himself at home at Tris's desk.

Cullen found himself immediately sidetracked.

As he was reading and writing his notes, every little sigh or whimper she made caused him to stop and watch her, just to make sure she was alright.

The candles had burned down to stubs as he finished the last of his letters.

Standing up, he stretched and contemplated leaving her so she could rest.

But even as he thought it, he knew he could never leave her.

She was facing him, on her side. He could see the curve of her hip under the duvet. Her full breasts rose and fell softly with her breathing.

Tris smiled in her sleep, rosy lips curling into a secret grin.

An unyielding coil of desire tightened in his belly.

There was no way he was leaving her tonight. Even if it just meant sleeping next to her, he would stay.

He had no idea how long she would be gone this time. The Western Approach was both remote and dangerous.

He turned around, trying to find a suitable place to hang his armor, when he noticed the extra stand next to where Tris's battle mage coat hung.

There was a red ribbon with a note attached hanging from it.

He smiled, rubbing his neck.

 

> Cullen,
> 
> I want you to feel as at home here with me as you do in your own tower rooms.
> 
> -Tris

He looked back at her sleeping form again, she was so beautiful, so considerate. He had never thought he would ever find this, especially not when he joined the Inquisition.

Pulling at the straps of his chest plate, he began methodically removing his armor. Hanging it with care on the stand, he tried to be quite but it _was_ heavy armor after all.

As he set his boots down with a muffled thud, he heard Tris stirring in the bed.

"What time is it?"

She yawned, her voice husky from sleep.

"It's late. Go back to back to sleep my love."  

She was still laying on her side, her bottle green eyes glowed in the soft light from the fire.

"You should have woken me... I wanted to show you my new dress."

Tris smiled sweetly and he was glad she was awake.

Cullen pulled his white cotton shirt over his head and laid it down carefully on the bench by the foot of the bed. Turning around, he saw that Tris had gotten up and was standing in front of him.

"It's all wrinkled now, but it was so pretty before." She said, twirling in a circle. "A gift from a merchant prince of Antiva."

Smirking she added, "He sent dozens of dresses as well as chocolates and brandy. We might have to fight Leliana if we want any of the chocolates."

The shimmering green and gold flared out in a circle as she spun around in front of him. His lips quirked into a smile watching her show off for him.

Cullen's voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, "You look... beautiful.... and if I didn't know better, I would say this Antivan merchant prince was trying to court you, my lady."

A flame of possessive jealousy burned inside him, white hot. But then Cullen saw how his words had affected her in the look she was giving him and he knew he had nothing to fear.

Her eyes were smoldering as she took a step closer to him.

"Well he can try... but I'm already spoken for."

Cullen took her face in his hands, gently brushing her lips with a kiss.

She turned her back to him suddenly, pulling her long hair over her shoulder and looked back at him innocently.

"Help me undo the laces?"

Cullen's pulse was racing as he started pulling at the golden cords of her bodice. When they were loose enough, Tris shrugged and the entire dress fell down at her feet.

She wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing on underneath.

He groaned as the breath went out of him.

Her pale skin glowed in the warm light of the fire. Her eyes beckoned him to her.

Cullen reached out, pulling her into his solid body. She tilted her head to the side as he kissed her neck, his right arm going around her middle.

Her skin was hot under his finger tips, his light touch left her shivering with anticipation. He breathed her in, the scent of her arousal sharp and sweet, it stoked his own passion.

Pressing his hardness into her backside, Tris angled her head to kiss him.

Cullen moved his left hand down her belly, as his right grasped one of her breasts and fondled it lovingly. A soft moan escaped her lips as he slid two fingers between her legs.

Tris's head went back as he kissed her neck and shoulders, branding her with his tongue. He stroked her with purpose, slowly tracing circles around her core.

Her breathing was heavy and measured, the iron band of his arm around her the only thing keeping her standing.

He shifted his weight and lifted her into his arms, claiming her mouth in a heated rush. Her lips parted for him and her tongue met his with enthusiasm. 

Cullen rolled over her, agile as a cat, as they tumbled into the feather bed together.

She was on her back as he hovered over her, showering her throat and breasts with his kisses. His hand went back to her cunt, as his nimble fingers teased and caressed the tight bud of flesh hidden there.

Tris wound her arms around him, trying to pull him down to her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her lips, as he swallowed her moans.

Cullen left burning kisses along her jaw line. Ignoring his own aching need, he slanted his body away from her.

But her hands were everywhere at once; in his hair, pulling at his biceps, sliding down his muscled stomach.

Her hot breath was at his ear.

"Cullen..." She moaned, "Make love to me."

He was lost. His heartbeat quickened and his body surrendered to her. Going up on his knees, he roughly pulled his breeches off.

Cullen watched as her ravenous eyes followed his every move.

Her gaze traced the tight muscles of his chest and stomach, they followed the hard line of his hips. Tris Licked her lips when she saw the rigid jut of him through the thin material of his small clothes.

She was up on her knees with him before he knew what was happening. Kissing his chest, her finger nails raked across his shoulders. He slid greedy hands down her back, pulling her into him.

Tris kissed down past his navel and he shuddered as her lips gently brushed across the tip of his erection.

He smelled the familiar scent of magic as her fingers lightly grazed his hips. His small clothes fell off of him, burned where her fire had touched them.

Cullen couldn't help the smirk that turned the corners of his lips up into a wicked grin.

She pushed him back onto the pillows as she kissed along his hip bone. He felt her hot tongue on his skin and he groaned, a deep guttural sound at the back of his throat.

Tris had moved down the bed, her breasts pushed against him, his hard organ between them. She squeezed them together and gave him a sinful smile.

Soft lips caressed him as she lightly dragged her fingernails up his inner thighs. Cullen tossed his head back, the sensation making him light headed. He was breathless as she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft.

Her fiery tongue traced the head of his cock as she stroked him. Tris blew a slow stream of air over him, teasing him.

Cullen was grasping and clawing at the sheets of the bed as his hips moved with her mouth.

She sucked and pulled as he bucked his hips. Her hands still around the base of him, stroking his passion with a steady rhythm.

Cullen arched his body as he threw his head back, his control waning. She was unmaking him with each pull of her mouth.

" _Sweet_ _Maker_..." he breathed.

He could feel his release approaching. But he didn't want her like this. With a lusty growl, he rolled forward, coming to rest on top of her.

His lips crushed against hers, hands tangling in red hair.

"I love you..." he sighed.

He drew his thumb across her lip, his hand cupping her cheek. She smiled up at him, her green eyes sparkling.

Tris wound her legs around his waist, her hips rising to meet his. She kissed him passionately.

"I love you too."

Cullen slid his arms under her, holding her to him tightly, as he slowly entered her. Rolling his hips into her, they both groaned as he pushed himself deep inside.

Tris tossed her head back as he dragged his tongue across her silky skin. They were breathing as one, her green eyes had him hypnotized, he could not look away.

His thrusts were smooth and measured, he worked his hips faster as Tris's sighs and moans grew more urgent. Her eye lids began to flutter and her breathing quickened. Cullen kissed her and held her as their climax shook them both.

Breathing heavily, Tris's lips were at his ear.

"I promise I'll write you whenever I can. I won't be gone too long."

Cullen squeezed her tightly, not wanting to let go.

"I know... that doesn't mean I won't miss you."

They slept intertwined, a tangle of limbs breathing softly together. He would have to say good bye in the morning, but tonight, she was his and he was hers.

No amount of distance between them would ever change that.


End file.
